


In The Long Run

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Foreskin Play, Implied under age, Incest, M/M, Nipples, Older Brother!Sam, Prostitution, RP, Rimming, Sex Toys, Smoker!Dean, Stanford Era, Top!Sam, Veins, Weecest, Weechesters, Wincest - Freeform, Younger Brother!Dean, buttplug, wee!cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Complete AU where Sam is the older brother and he STILL left for Stanford, leaving his brother to fend alone with John. He comes back and Dean is… Different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: Dean - 17, Sam - 21

Sam had all of his finals done, no extra homework or anything left over. Christmas break started tomorrow and he had an entire week to do whatever he damn well pleased. He knew he wanted to go home, and by **home** , that meant where ever Dean was at.

It wasn’t easy though - getting John to hold a conversation with him long enough to get details about where they were. What was even more difficult was getting his baby brother to answer his phone, he was about a thousand percent sure that his brother was ignoring his calls. Sam knew Dean was mad at him, had every right to be. All Sam could hope was that maybe he could persuade Dean to understand.

Sam flipped his cell phone open and scrolled through his contacts, stopping on John’s name, he took a deep breath and hit call. It rang nearly four times before their Dad answered, gruff cold voice, “Yeah?”

Sam rolled his eyes at the greeting and clenched his jaw a little, “Christmas break starts tomorrow, I was gonna swing by and check up on Dean. Where’re you guys at?”

The whole conversation was awkward and  **thankfully**  short, John was clipped and bitter with him as usual. Sam was surprised he’d actually managed to get directions out of him though; any other time he’d tried to get information about where they were usually ended up with John hanging up on him.

It had been so long since he last seen Dean. Sam tried calling at least once every day, of course his brother’s stubborn ass never answered. This was good though, maybe he’d get a chance to explain why he left.

Sam chuckled out loud at himself as he shook his head and stuffed some clothes into his duffel, there was no way Dean would let him get half an explanation out without swinging at him, he could feel it in his gut. Good thing he had a few more inches and about thirty pounds of muscle on him.

He didn’t need much for the trip, he’d learned to pack light over the years. He stopped at the door of his dorm room, looked around the room one last time, shut the lights off and shut the door.

When he got outside, he threw the duffel in the backseat of the shiny black ‘67 Chevy Impala, climbed in the driver’s seat and looked over at the passenger side sadly. At least the six hour drive would give him time to think of what he was going to say to his little brother.

Sam looked in the mirror and felt disgusted with himself as he cranked the engine, “I never should’ve left him,” He mumbled under his breath and pulled out onto the main road.

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes at the annoying buzz of his back pocket. It was probably his brother, dad never really called him, so that only left one person for it to be. He reached back, ignoring the protest of the other man, and pulled his cell phone out. He would’ve clicked the button on the side to send it to voice mail normally, he had hundreds of messages from Sam already, he was sure, but he never checked them.

But it wasn’t Sam calling him, and Dean’s brows narrowed in confusion.

It’d been almost three full years since Dean had last seen his older brother. He spent most of his days outside of the motel rooms, whether it was to go on a walk about, get laid, or play pool at some shady back-end bar, he was fine, as long as it was distance from his father.

In all honesty, John got more out of the motels they stayed at than Dean did, and the only time Dean was ever really home was when he was sleeping. He didn’t even talk much anymore, had closed a lot of himself off at this point and kept to himself.

The things he did outside of the room were never spoken about between him and his father. He wasn’t sure if John knew or not, but if he did, he kept quiet; which was probably best for both of them. When they weren’t actually hunting, they weren’t really around each other much, and they couldn’t be in the room too long with one another without Sam coming up, or Dean’s ‘rebelliousness’.

Dean was either wandering and doing his own thing, or sleeping, and John was normally in the room, looking up the next baddy for them to snuff out. They kept it at that, because it was safer that way.

The younger Winchester had had his shoulder blades against the motel wall most of the day, around the back, keeping himself discrete and nearly chugging the can of beer he’d been offered.

“Sir,” He said as welcome, keeping his voice as calm as possible under the current circumstances, “Yeah. I can be there. You need somethin’, sir?” He listened, raising his brows and looking down.

“Ten minutes, yeah,” He answered John, voice only slightly shaky. He closed the phone, pocketed it, and put his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

* * *

The bright, crappy little hotel stuck out like a sore thumb, just like John described.

Sam pulled in next to John’s truck and shut the car off. He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white and let out a shaky breath before he climbed out of the Impala.

His legs felt like jello as he walked up to the door, a couple short knocks later and their Dad answered it with a gun in his hand,  **naturally**.

Sam swallowed and put his hands up in mock surrender, “It’s just me.”

John looked around outside, then nodded silently and moved out of the way with a back step of trepidation, letting Sam enter the room as if he were protecting gold, “He’s not here yet.”

Sam felt his shoulders relax at that, and he walked inside, standing almost awkwardly against the wall by the entrance and crossing his arms over his chest, “I’ll wait.”

* * *

Dean made his way around to the front side of the motel, which he knew a lot  _less_. He walked into their room, not looking about as he pulled off his jacket and kicked the door closed with his boot.

He paused, turning and meeting Sam’s eyes, the giant man standing there like a shadow over him and Dean’s stomach twisted as he realized exactly **why**  his dad had wanted him back in the motel. He turned and moved to walk away, reaching out for the doorknob before Sam could stop him.

The older Winchester gave Dean a few seconds head-start, he’d rather catch up with his brother and do this elsewhere - not in front of John. He gave their father a knowing look before he started out the door, his long legs making it incredibly easy to catch up with Dean in no time.

He grabbed his little brother’s arm to stop him, “Come on, Dee. Don’t do this.”

Dean turned, pulling his arm from Sam’s grip and stepping back, his eyes were slightly widened, nostrils flared as he shook his head, “Don’t do what?” He smirked as he shrugged his shoulders, “What do you want from **me**?” He couldn’t help the bitterness from coming out, the hate on his breath as he kept himself at  **least**  two feet from Sam.

Sam glared at Dean, it almost didn’t look like his little brother anymore. He knew he’d be angry, but Dean was taking it to a whole new level. Sam notched his brows together and shook his head once, “Got tired of you dodging my calls, figured I’d check up on you is all.”

Dean had filled out a little more since he last seen him, he was a little taller and his shoulders were definitely more broad. Sam could smell alcohol - waves of the familiar stench rolling off of Dean. He could almost feel his blood boil. John had let this happen, essentially let Dean turn into their father.

“Have you been drinking?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business,” Dean responded, words following Sam’s sentence so fast that he had to breathe for a moment before he spoke again, “You left. Nothin’ I do is your concern.” He knew it, the second his brother came back, of  **course**  Sam was trying to take over, to run his life, to tell him what to do. First words and they were already going in that direction.

Sam snorted and ran a hand over his face, “You’re my brother, of course it’s my damn business.”

The long amount of time and distance between them had definitely done a number on whatever they had, Sam knew it wasn’t the same anymore. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, looking at the ground, “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked away, watching the darkening street as he stepped further from Sam, boots lightly touching the curb as he licked his lips, “Why did you leave?”

“I asked you first. Don’t pull your tough guy bullshit with me, Dean,” Sam responded sharply, his eyes glued to his brother’s, “Why didn’t you answer my phone calls?”

“ **Because**  you left,” Dean answered as he glared at Sam, speaking louder than he normally did, and he knew his voice sounded rough, but he didn’t care. “Why would I answer any one of you’re shitty little heart-felt calls after that?”

“You know  **why**  I left,” Sam stood a little straighter, his voice lower so that John couldn’t hear, “You should’ve answered because I wanted to hear from  **you**. You think I like calling Dad just to see how you’re doin’?”

“You think  **he**  knows how I’m doing?” Dean laughed as he shook his head, “You left. An’ you left me to deal with him. Neither of you actually care how I’m doin’, so stop tryin’ to pretend like you do.”

“I had a chance to get out, Dean!” Sam took a few steps closer, his brother was being ridiculous, “You trying to tell me you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity?” It hurt a little to know that Dean thought Sam didn’t care, especially when it was the complete opposite of how he felt.

Dean shook his head, chuckling as he backed up more, “I don’t care what you got, you don’t just bail, not like that.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, “Real nice seein’ you, now go fuck off an’ leave me in my misery, will ya?”

“I wasn’t bailing on  **you** , stubborn ass,” Sam huffed, seeing Dean like this was tearing him up, “Things could have been different if you would’ve just picked up the phone once in a while. And no, I’m not going anywhere for the next week.”

“Then I’ll come back in about a week, good, that works out perfectly. An’ you can spend time with  **that** asshole,” Dean motioned to the apartment, shaking his head, “Deal with what I’ve had to, the past three years, cause I’m not stayin’ in a motel room with you two. I’m not.”

Sam’s eyes widened a little bit, “You think I’m staying in the same room with him?” Sam shook his head, he’d get his own room to avoid the fighting, “I came to see  **you** , not him.”

“An’ yet  **I**  don’t wanna see  **you** ,” Dean scoffed, “Maybe you shoulda considered that before comin’ here. Why would I want to see you at  **all**? Far as I was concerned,” He shook his head again, “ **Am** concerned, you don’t exist.”  
  
Sam bit his bottom lip and looked away, because god damn that  **really** hurt, “You know I would’ve taken you with me if Dad would’ve allowed it,” Sam spoke softly, knowing full well that raising his voice would only make things worse.

“Yeah, well, good for you. I hope that helps you sleep at night,” Dean rolled his eyes, arms shaky as his nerves finally reached the point where he couldn’t stand it anymore. He reached into his back pocket, drawing out a cigarette and his lighter, flicking it against the end before he took a long, calming drag.

“No. Not  **good**  for me. I missed you, tried calling every day,” Sam watched as his little brother brought the cigarette up to his lips, it took him all of two seconds to close the distance and take the cigarette out of Dean’s mouth, throwing it to the ground, “Are you fucking brain dead?” So much for staying calm, but really,  **cigarettes**?!

Dean planted his palms on Sam’s chest and shoved him back, bending over to pick it up as he did so, “You don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do,” He said. He glared at Sam as he took another drag and backed up out of reach, “My life, an’ I do what I want. Tryin’ to stop me now is a little too late.”

Sam wanted nothing more than to shake the stubbornness out of Dean. He ran his hand idly across his chest where his brother shoved him, “When are you gonna stop this whole tough guy act, huh? Do you really hate me _that_  much?” Sam’s voice broke off, this was going to be a bust, just like he’d expected.

“Doesn’t matter,” The younger Winchester smirked, blowing out a cloud of smoke. He hated having to talk about this with Sam. He’d been avoiding it for so long, avoiding himself with it, even. And now it was like Sam wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Anythin’ I feel has never really mattered,” He took another drag of the cigarette, “We gonna keep standin’ out here in the open or… What?”

“It  **does**  matter,” Sam insisted, “Always has,  **regardless**  if you believe it or not.” Sam jiggled the keys to the Impala in his pocket and nodded towards her, “Unless you wanna discuss it in the car, I’m not seeing much else of an option.”

“I don’t like jus’ bein’ out here like this, my gun’s back with my jacket, all I got on me is my knife,” Dean ignored Sam’s statement from before, “If you’re not stayin’ with dad an’ I, then where the fuck’re you sleepin’? Car?”

Sam rolled his shoulders and looked towards the front of the hotel - to the office, “I’ll probably just get my own room for the week.” Thankfully he had a part time job that would allow as much, because three Winchester’s in one room could be a little overwhelming.

“You’re welcome to stay with me,” He shrugged nonchalantly, “That way you don’t have to put up with Dad for a little while.”

Dean took a few puffs from his cigarette, thinking it over. He didn’t want to deal with  **either**  of them, but he was so sick and tired of John at this point, it didn’t really matter anyways. He wasn’t inside much. _A bed was a bed._

“Sure, whatever,” He looked at Sam pointedly, “Jus’ don’t’chu start actin’ like you’re dad, cause I ain’t puttin’ up with that,” though he had already, he was trying to give Sam the benefit of the doubt.

“The cigarettes I can tolerate for the time being,” Sam shifted on his feet, “But if you’re gonna stay with me, you’re gonna have to sacrifice the alcohol.”

He wasn’t trying to act like their Dad, he could give it up at least for the next week, that wasn’t asking too much. This was going better, Dean wasn’t constantly raising his voice. Sam would take what he could get.

“Whatever,” Dean agreed passively, stomping out the butt of the cigarette once he’d finished and lighting up another, “Think I could do that f’I don’t hafta deal with dad.” He swallowed, ran his tongue over his teeth, “We gonna do that then, an’ stop standin’ out’ere already?”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s impatience and started towards the office, “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.”

* * *

The guy at the counter was nice enough, a little young though. He took Sam’s money and handed him the key to the room, with double beds. Sam stopped by the Impala on the way back and grabbed his duffel out of the backseat. He walked back up to Dean before heading towards the room, “I’ll be in room twelve if you wanna grab your stuff first.”

Dean nodded, finishing his cigarette and stomping it out before he went back to his room. He grabbed his jacket and a few small things, ignoring the glance his dad gave him before he walked back out and locked the door up. He passed the other rooms, opening Sam’s and letting himself in without a knock.

Sam had taken his jacket off and was sitting his duffel in the chair at the corner of the room when Dean walked in, he kept his back to him, “You think maybe we can catch up without you telling me to ‘go fuck off’?”

“I think I can manage,” Dean swallowed, watching his brother, staring at him as the younger Winchester took a seat at the supplied table. He wanted to stay bitter, to hate Sam, to push him away, but it felt so good just having him around at all. Dean knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to give his brother a chance.

“How’ve you been? And if you tell me that I don’t care, I have no qualms about kicking your ass,” Sam turned around and sat on the edge of the chair, watching Dean. He wanted things to fall right back into the way they were before, but he knew it wouldn’t happen, wasn’t sure if it ever would.

“Shitty,” Dean responded instead, dark, angry eyes staring at Sam as he shrugged, “How else am I s’pose to’ve been? An’ I guess you’re fine, livin’ that perfect dream life you’ve always wanted.”

Dean was still bitter, that much was made painfully obvious.

“It’s not perfect, things could be better.” Sam moved to the table and sat down across from Dean, “I missed you, man,” Sam admitted, trying to convey as much honesty as possible in his voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Don’t you fuckin’ say that to me.” He felt the anger curl up inside of him even more. He didn’t want to tell Sam how he felt, he didn’t want to deal with any of it at all, it was something best left buried, for him.

“I did,” Sam persisted, then looked away, “But I’m guessing that since you were so Hell bent about not answering my calls, you didn’t miss me.” It came out more like a question, even though it wasn’t. He had a week with Dean, he didn’t really want to waste it beating around the bush.

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” Dean asked loudly, slapping the table with his fist, “You want me to tell you that I’ve been miserable? That I do what I can to block those feelin’s out because they hurt too much? Like I’m some whiny fuckin’ bitch. Either way, you’re just comin’ here an’ fuckin’ thin’s up again. You’ll be back in school, back away, the moment it happens. You’re just gonna leave again.”

“Why even bother showin’ up? To show me how good you’re doin’? To show me how much better you are, now that you’ve moved on? To make yourself feel better that you came to check on ‘ _poor little Dee_ ’?”

“Will you just calm down, please?” Sam looked at Dean, his eyes pleading, “I didn’t come here to make things worse. I was sick of hearing Dad say ‘ _fine_ ’ every time I asked about you, tired of you not answering my calls. I didn’t go to school to give up on you, I went to make things better for us in the long haul, Dee.”

Dean nodded slowly, “Yeah, but that only makes sense to  **you**. I don’t know what you want from me, Sam. This is easy for you, comin’ back here an’ visitin’ for a few days, then leavin’ to go back to the life you love. All you’re doin’ for me is leavin’ a second hole. All you’re doin’ is makin’ it worse. An’ guess who has to deal with that? Me. Not you, not dad, not anyone else but me. I get to deal with you leavin’; again.”

“God damn it, Dean. You’re old enough now,” Sam sat back in the chair and sighed, “If you want out, you could always come with me.” The thought hadn’t even occurred to him before now - but it actually sounded nice.

The younger Winchester turned his head, considering it for a moment. “I need another smoke,” He said. It was an easy thought, and also very, very difficult. While their dad was an ass, and a miserable drunk, and a problem most of the time, Dean wasn’t sure if he could just…  _Just walk out on his father. Not like Sam had._

“Just think about it, okay? It’s not like I’m asking you to just up and abandon dad. We’ll have the car, you can still check up on him,” Sam stood, unable to sit any longer.

Dean watched Sam wearily, “You’re askin’ me to leave him behind. While he’s an ass, I’ll agree to that, he didn’t leave me behind, an’ he never has. An’ you’re askin’ me to go with you.”

But inside, Dean had this stirring realization that he’d do it, he knew he was going to. It wasn’t  **just**  about choosing family members, it was about Sam, about being with his brother. It was also about getting out of this, getting away from the life he was forced into.

“Do you not realize how different things would be if you would have just answered my calls? I’ve told you, Dee. I left to make things better for you and me, so if you’re gonna mope and be stubborn then that’s fine, but the offer still stands,” Sam grimaced and moved away from the table.

Dean reached back, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up. He didn’t often smoke this religiously, but he certainly had his moments. Being around Sam, he was half tempted to smoke two at a time, his hands were practically shaking with unease and he didn’t want Sam to see him this bad, better the cancer stick in his hand than the freaky Parkinson’s wannabe.

“We could’ve talked it out, you know. What happened between us,” Sam paced the floor slowly, trying not to look at Dean, “I hated being away from you, still do, but you have to understand I did it all for a reason; for _us_.”

Sam risked a glance at his brother and noticed immediately how much his hands were shaking, not to mention how rough he looked.

The younger Winchester flicked the lighter, bringing it to his lips and closing his eyes as he tried to calm his hands down. He didn’t know what to say to Sam. He couldn’t argue his side, because he didn’t really  **have**  a side, and he didn’t  _want_  to. The parts inside of him were warring with one another, unable to blame or forgive Sam entirely. He nearly dropped his cigarette, thumb still flicking the lighter to try and bring the flame up.  
  
“Right,” Sam responded to himself, “Too much too soon.”

If anything, the silence was a gift, Sam knew that meant his brother was thinking about it. He had an entire week to spend with him though (maybe longer depending on his brother’s decision) and he wanted to make the most of it, not spend it pissed off at one another.

“Dad let you get your license?” The corner of Sam’s mouth twisted up with his idea of lightening the mood.

Dean breathed in deep, dropping his hands back to the table and pausing for a moment, “M’not even sure f’he knows I got a license. Or, you know, ninety percent of what I got an’ don’t got anymore these days. He never really asks.”

Sam pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them at his little brother, grinning weakly, “C’mon, let’s go grab somethin’ to eat. I’ll let you drive my baby. You wreck her though and it’s comin’ outta your hide.”

Dean caught the keys, eyes widening as he stared at them, “You sure about this?” He smirked as he stood, carefully holding the cigarette between his fingers, drawing from it before putting it out on his jacket sleeve and tucking it back in the box.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam shrugged as he made his way towards the door, smiling happily, “It was a long drive, I could use the break. I’m serious though, Dee. If you wreck her, I swear they won’t find your body. C’mon.” It was strange just how excited Sam was for this, getting to see his little brother behind the wheel of his car. This would be a nice distraction.

“Oh, I won’t, trust me,” Dean stuck his tongue out between his teeth as he followed his brother. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, glancing up and down the road, the empty, familiar darkness of it and he walked along to where Sam had left the Impala, just outside of their father’s motel room.

Sam turned back to Dean just briefly before reaching the car, “Did you wanna tell him that we’re goin’ for some grub?” As much as they both hated being around their Dad, Sam knew Dean still cared about the old man.

“He’s fine,” Dean responded, shrugging, “I mean… Him an’ I don’t really do anythin’ but hunt together. He’s probably eaten already - won’t really make much of a difference if we tell him.” And on the off chance their dad  **did**  want to go, it was best to avoid the possibility entirely.

Sam nodded knowingly before moving to the passenger side door, “You’ll have to let me in, she’s locked.” Sam didn’t know this neighborhood very well, so she’d stay locked pretty much his entire visit.

“Ah,” Dean climbed into his side, once he’d gotten it open, and reached across to Sam’s door to let him in.

He smiled as he turned his full attention to the car, the larger steering wheel, the squeak of leather. He shut his door, settled his feet, changing everything for himself. Goddamn, he could really get use to this fucking thing.  
  
Sam slid into the Impala beside Dean, watching his brother curiously to see how he was going to treat his baby. He had to admit though, Dean looked really good behind the wheel, almost seemed natural.

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up in a lop sided grin as he cleared his throat, “You gonna keep starin’ at her or are we gonna get outta here?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” The younger Winchester put the key in the ignition and turned, smirking as she growled into life, “Goddamn.” He pulled out of the parking spot - both smooth and confident, eyes lighting up as he switched gears and started off down the road, towards the nearest diner.

Sam’s half grin turned into a full one, dimples and all as he watched Dean. It was insane how much he grew up in the past three years. Yeah, he was attractive to Sam before, but now… Well, the kid was a sight for sore eyes, that much was for sure.

He turned his head to look out the window, the last thing he needed was Dean catching him staring with a dumb expression on his face.

Dean pursed his lips as he drove, oblivious to Sam and trying to ignore his own emotions. They were a mess right now, but they’d have to wait. He pulled into a small place just a few miles from the motel, parking and smirking at Sam as he took the keys back. “Not as horrible as you thought I’d be?” He asked, climbing out of the Impala.

Sam shrugged a little and stuck his hand out to make an unsure gesture, he chuckled and got out of the car as well, “Not too bad.” Truth was though, he was kind of proud of how  **good**  his brother was and a little irritated with himself that he wasn’t the one who taught him.

“Uh huh,” Dean shut his door and sauntered into the diner, walking in and nodding at the waitress standing there, “Two, please.” He threw her a suggestive look, charming the poor woman and she giggled, leading them to a booth.

Sam had to roll his eyes at Dean, the little fucker was good looking and he knew how to use it. Sam leaned close so only Dean could hear him as they walked to the booth, “Do you have no shame?” Sam’s voice was light, humorous and maybe a tad bit jealous.

“Of course not,” Dean responded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he sat, looking over the waitress in an obvious observance of her form.

She giggled again and pulled out a small clipboard from her apron, “What can I get you boys this morning?”

Sam looked at Dean and then to the waitress, he smiled bright, flashing his dimples, “I’ll just take a steak salad with a glass of ice water.” His method of flirting was more subtle than Dean’s, but the dimples usually worked just about every time; and the lingering look from the waitress before she turned to Dean let Sam know he still had it.

Dean grinned and licked his lips, “Five, and a coke,” He rose his brows and watched her face turn red. He’d come to this same diner enough this past week and knew the menu by memory, practically, so he didn’t even bother looking at the menus.

Sam huffed a little and sat back further in the booth when the waitress went to fill their orders. He couldn’t blame the girl for getting flustered by Dean, with those lips of his and how heavy he laid it on sometimes was… fucking  **hot**.

“If you keep flirting with her like that she’s liable to start followin’ you around like a lost puppy,” Sam looked at Dean pointedly, then glanced at the waitress and - of  **course**  she had her eyes glued to Dean.

“I’ve already had her,” Dean said nonchalantly and chuckled, licking his bottom lip and fingering his napkin, looking at the waitress again, “Don’t really make a difference what I do now, does it?”

Sam felt dumb struck for all of about a minute before he managed to make his mouth work, “Nice.” It wasn’t like he could say much else, he didn’t have much of a say in what Dean did anymore, not that he had a whole lot of say before, but still.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face before looking out the diner window, wondering just how  **much**  Dean had changed.

The younger Winchester smiled as the waitress came back and set down there drinks, promising to have their food out shortly. He looked at Sam, sipping his soda and raising his brows, “What?” He didn’t like the expression on his brother’s face, the panicking underneath and it bothered him. He was sure he knew what Sam was so worked up about, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Sam kept his gaze out the window and played with the sleeve of his shirt idly, he shook his head once, “Nothing, doesn’t matter.” It was sad, but true.

He knew Dean didn’t really give two shits what was bothering him (not anymore anyway), so therefor he wouldn’t tell him about it. Dean was smart, he either knew already or could figure it out on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean parked at the motel and climbed out of the car, locking up his side before he tossed his older brother the keys. “Thanks,” He said, smiling, “Seriously. I been wantin’ to drive this car... My whole life, I think.” It’d been nice, definitely something he could get into doing religiously.

Sam caught the keys and nodded slowly before heading to the hotel door, "Anytime." He wouldn't just let anybody drive his car, but he knew he'd let Dean drive it just about any time he wanted to - if it made him happy.

Dean followed after, pulling a cigarette from his back pocket and lighting it up. He’d kept it to a minimum in the car, out of respect, but around this shitty little motel, all limits ceased. He breathed in deep, feeling calmed almost at once.

Sam had entered their room, pausing briefly at the door to look around. This was all too familiar, almost like he just left this life yesterday. It wasn't the one he wanted, he didn't want the hunting and the killing. He did, however, want Dean in any possible capacity - so he'd tough it out for the next week.

The smell of the cigarette wafted around him, almost making him nauseous. But, if he said anything about it what so ever, Dean would start on his whole ' _you're not dad_ ' speech and it wasn't something he wanted to hear right now. Especially not after he had to watch Dean pretty much eye-fuck the waitress, knowing that he had already actually slept with her.

“So what exactly are we doin’?” Dean asked suddenly, unable to stop himself.

He couldn’t help it though, he was getting impatient with this round and round about game with Sam, and he just wanted to figure shit out. He didn’t know what he _was_ to his brother, or really what he thought of Sam, just that he wanted to talk or some stupid shit like that. Or _fuck_ , anything was better than this shitty silence and uncomfortable air between them.

“Are we gonna just watch Gumby or some shit? Because I don’t know what to do with you at this point, man.”

Sam picked up the tv remote from the foot of his bed and tossed it to Dean, shrugging, "If you're still into Gumby, then by all means."

He sat down on the bed, pulled his shoes off and, damn, was it a relief. He sighed contently and ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to look at Dean. "You don't have to do **anything** with me, wouldn't want you to strain yourself by actually talkin' about things," Sam's voice was low and monotone, he didn't want Dean to know how worked up he got him.

Dean was silent for a moment before he flicked the remote back at Sam, so hard it smashed against the wall by his brother and shattered into pieces, “You think you’re ready to talk **now**?” Like a fucking light, fuse so low it lit at once and his brows were notched, fury painted on his face so hard it was almost painful.

Sam shook his head and flinched when Dean threw the remote, his face sullen compared to his brother's, "I'm sorry, Dee. I'm just tired, and that was uncalled for, neither one of us is ready to talk about it."

His little brother wasn't the same. There was now a hardened shell covering the Dean he used to know. But now, with the alcohol, cigarettes, sex, and the anger - it was difficult for Sam to still see any of his little brother. Conversations didn't just come easy between them any more and the silence was no longer comfortable.

“Fine,” Dean finished his cigarette and snuffed it out on the rug, under his boot, “M’goin’ out, don’t bother waitin’ up.”

He felt completely fucking ticked now, Sam had the nerve to just come back here and fuck up his life, and the bastard didn’t even regret doing it, or feel sorry in the slightest. The ‘ _it was for us in the long run_ ’ bull shit was old the moment he heard it, and the excuse was grating on him.

Sam stood immediately, he felt so defeated, "God damn it, Dean. _Please_ don't go."

He clenched his jaw and moved a little closer and sighed heavily, his eyes a little watery from the frustration, "What do you want me to say?" Sam's eyes widened, "That I regret leaving you? That I thought about your stubborn ass everyday?"

“Yes,” Dean said, turning to look at his brother as his eyes glassed over, “Yes, that’s **exactly** what I wanna hear. I wanna hear _‘I’m sorry for fuckin’ up your life’, ‘I’m sorry for leavin’ you an’ makin’ you feel fuckin’ worthless’, ‘I’m sorry for pretendin’ that I loved you, an’ then shovin' all of this distance down your goddamn throat, without ever lookin’ back’_. Yes, that’s what I’d like to hear. **That’s** what I wanna hear, Sam.”

Dean's words stopped Sam dead in his tracks, he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he found the right words, "I'm sorry... for everything, for hurting you like this. I'm sorry that **I'm** the reason you're like this. I never **pretended** to love you, Dee. I did, more than anything."

Sam dropped his head and lowered his voice to where it was barely audible, " _Still do_."

“Don’t try to stuff that horse shit in my face, Sam,” Dean said, grimacing, “I don’t wanna hear how you _still feel_ about me. You don’t feel anythin’, Sam. You don’t even care what you’re doin’ to me, what this is gonna do to me when you go.”

He shook his head, “I can’t have you come back to me every time you feel like you need'a remember your childhood, or whatever the **fuck** it is you’re doin’ here. Cause comin’ an’ seein’ me wasn’t for **me**.”

"Horse shit? You're never going to believe a damn word I say, Dean. So what's the point?" Sam argued, his face hard as a tear fell, "You're stupid if you honestly believe that I don't care about you. I wanted things to work. I was sure they were going to, but you never answered my damn calls. I fuckin' tried."

“You don’t know what you left me to, **here** ,” Dean said, shaking his head, “You think leavin’ was gonna make things better? Well, nice job Sam, cause it **didn’t**. You couldn’t’ve waited until I was old enough? I know you wanted to leave dad, who fuckin’ doesn’t? But to just leave me here with him–” Dean shook his head, turning away, “I need you, an’ you just left me here.” He didn't even realize the freudian slip when it came out, shaking his head and keeping his back to his older brother.

Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder gently, "I'm sorry. I fucked up, Dean. I can't change things, but I'm here now trying to make it better... if that's even possible." Sam felt his guts twist up, it killed him to see Dean like this; all of his instincts were fueling towards ' _protect him_ ' and ' _fix things_ '.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothin’ happened?” Dean asked, turning to look at Sam, eyes so full of tears he couldn’t see straight, “Are we just gonna keep it at length, an’ never talk about it?”

"I don't expect you to forgive me and you'll never know just how fucking sorry I am for leaving you here with Dad, but for Christ sake I'm here now, and practically beggin' for a chance to try and patch things up," Sam could feel his fingers twitch a little, he wanted to touch Dean's face, "I need you to work with me here a little bit, Dee."

“So _that’s_ how it’s gonna be,” Dean nodded slowly, “You’re just gonna keep glossin’ it, like you’ve _had_ better, _been_ better, _done_ better. You’re just gonna keep goin’ around it. Well, I’m not. An' I’m not gonna be quiet about things like this, you can bury them as deep as you want, doesn’t make a lick of difference to me.”

"What?" Sam furrowed his brows, confused for a minute until he understood. He planted his hands on his hips and let his head sag a little, "I'm not burying anything. I still want you just as much, if not more than I did then. But like you said, it's not like it makes a difference to you."

Dean frowned, staring at Sam for a moment before he nearly rolled his eyes, “Are you an idiot?”

"Apparently," Sam shifted on his feet nervously, even more confused than before. If Dean wasn't talking about their Dad or about them, Sam was lost.

“I _want_ you,” Dean said, turning to Sam, “Goddamn, you fuckin’ stupid moron. Some times I want you so bad it’s... It’s like I don’t even know what to do with myself. An’ I have this pit inside of me that wraps around everythin’ I am. Just cause I say it doesn’t matter, that doesn’t mean I’m tellin’ the truth. You can’t possibly lookit me an’ not know that I want you more than anythin' I've ever wanted in my whole life.”

"It's not like I can read your mind, Dee," Sam moved closer, his eyes boring down into Dean's as he fisted the front of his brother's shirt, "And if you want me, then **please** stop pushing me away."

Dean stared up into Sam’s gaze, his own darkening considerably, “I’m seventeen, what exactly do you expect from me?”

Sam licked his lips as his gaze dropped momentarily to Dean's mouth and he shrugged weakly, "I expect you... _damn it_ , Dean. I don't expect anything from you. I can understand you being stubborn with Dad, but **me**?"

“Yeah, well, it goes both ways,” The younger Winchester said, voice soft and shaking, “I can understand you leavin’ dad, but me?”

Sam gave into temptation and cupped Dean's cheek softly, looking down sadly at his brother, "Are you gonna hate me forever?" Sam could feel his heart hammering frantically in his chest.

“I never hated you,” Dean answered honestly, “I hate what you **did** , I hate **how** you did it, I hate **when** you did it, an’ I hate how it’s made me **feel**. But I don’t hate **you** , Sam.”

Sam nodded as he listened to his brother, "You gonna give me a chance to make it up to you?" Sam's voice was almost a whisper as he stroked his brother's cheek with his thumb. He knew he didn't deserve it, but there was still a little part of him that held out hope that Dean would let him.

Dean nodded carefully, watching his brother closely. It was like every promise he had made to himself, to never forgive Sam, to hold it against him, to remember the pain, to block him out, it wasn’t worth it.

To feel like this, have his brother looking at him and touching him, wasn’t worth holding anything against him. Dean just wanted more. The... Whatever that had been before, the innocence of it, the simple touches and kisses, rocking against one another’s bodies, Dean didn’t care. He wanted it, whatever it was.

Sam pressed his forehead to Dean's gently, his hand still on his brother's face. Being this close to Dean, it felt good - amazing even. It had been so long since Sam got to be near Dean like this, even then, they were younger and things stayed simple. Nothing about their relationship was simple or easy anymore. Sam knew he needed Dean, having his brother around was the only thing lacking in his life.

He took a deep breath and glanced into Dean's green eyes, before he knew it he was pressing his lips to Dean's in a gentle, almost chaste kiss.

The younger Winchester kissed back at once, body rising slightly against Sam. His hands stayed at his sides, head tilting, mouth opening minutely as he responded. He kept his eyes wide, staring into Sam’s face, gaze tracing over his brother's lashes, the soft mole by his nose, his brows and hairline.

Sam's hand slid to the back of Dean's neck to hold him close as Sam stepped even closer, pressing their chests together firmly. His other hand settled on Dean's hip, squeezing the supple skin over his shirt as he deepened the kiss.

Dean’s head tilted upright more, almost staring directly up at Sam and his heart skipped like three beats, nearly bursting from his chest. He’d forgotten how _tall_ his brother was, even **before** kissing him. Sam just felt so much larger than him like **this** , being this close.

His eyes widened and watered just from being _overwhelmed_ by his brother. Feeling Sam’s hand touch him made things twist inside, and he moaned weakly into the older Winchester’s mouth.

Sam knew that this was a lot to handle and he knew that he couldn't let it go too far, not right now anyway. He breathed heavily through his nose and willed himself to break the kiss, his hand still squeezing his brother's hip, "Slow," He murmured, pressed his lips to Dean's one more time and practically groaned at how soft his brother's lips were.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean agreed, eyes dilated back as he swallowed and kissed Sam again, feeling his heart thrum wildly in his chest. He didn’t like the concept of _slow_ , considering most were just a fuck-and-leave kind of deal, the idea of waiting for Sam was kind of agonizing. Was he some kind of virgin or something? That would be... _Painfully ironic_.

Sam clenched his jaw, pressed one last forceful kiss to Dean's lips and pulled away slightly. If he didn't, he knew that things would heat up and he didn't exactly know what to do. It almost made him feel nauseous that he was twenty one and still a virgin while Dean was seventeen - and _not_.

And naturally, what makes it worse is that just the small amount of contact he had with Dean, left him so hard it hurt. Sometimes life just wasn't fair at all.

“That’s **it**?” Dean asked in confusion, blinking up at Sam, “We... We did more when I was **fourteen**.” He was confused, he couldn’t quite make out why his brother was being so clipped with him. Sure, the kissing was hot, and it stirred things up, that was _nice_ and all... But he felt denied. Disappointed, even. If Sam was going to be so distant with him– “Is it... Because of your _age_? Cause I've been with older...”

"Well, things are different now. Definitely because we're older, but it's not-  it's not because of my age, that doesn't bother me," Sam looked at Dean guiltily, "I just... I mean, I've never really..." Sam trailed off quietly, unable to finish, he was more than a little embarrassed.

Dean’s eyes widened, “No, I mean... That was a passin’ thought but... But you’re not–no, you’re not really a virgin.” He shook his head, looking his brother over, “You’re lyin’.”

Sam could feel his cheeks heating up, it felt like he was on fire - _and was the room getting smaller?_ Because he felt like he was starting to suffocate. Sam met Dean's eyes warily and stuttered, "I-It's not like I have a-a reason to lie to you about this."

The younger Winchester frowned and he reached out, touching Sam’s chest, “Hey, hey, calm down.” He’d never seen his older brother look so uneasy. Dean leaned up on his toes and kissed Sam, all soft and slow, like he would a virgin. “It’s okay, s’nothin’ to be ashamed of or anythin’. I’m just... Well, surprised.”

Sam rested his hand on Dean's bicep, his head still sort of hanging, "Surprised I waited? Or just surprised that I'm a virgin, period?" With Dean's reassurance, it was a little bit easier to deal with, knowing that his younger, more experienced, brother wasn't judging him.

“Uh, both, I guess,” Dean chuckled softly, “I mean, you’re kinda like walkin’ sex on legs. So, yeah. I’m pretty surprised you were **able** to wait.” He touched Sam’s chin, forcing the larger, older brother to look into his eyes, “Thank you.”

Sam stared at Dean and it felt like his heart was in his throat, he furrowed his brows and tried to smile, "You're probably the **only** person who thinks that and **why** are you thanking me?"

“Trust me, I’m not the only person,” The younger Winchester took Sam’s hips and guided him forward carefully, “An’ ‘thank you’, cause you waited. Makes me kinda wish I coulda.”

Sam shrugged lightly with one shoulder and grinned a little as he let the smaller man guide him, "You make it sound like I waited for you." Which in complete honesty, he had, but that would probably go straight to his brother's head.

“I **hope** that’s the case,” Dean chuckled, “I’d like to think you had the chance, but didn’t take it, cause of me.” He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Sam’s jaw, "I might be a bit insecure or some shit, cause of that, but it's honest 'nuff, ain't it?"

Sam closed his eyes when he felt the warm lips touch his skin and his hands found Dean's hips again, more sure and steady this time. "Would you cut me some slack if I told you that it **was** because of you?" Sam's voice was both timid and curious, it was ridiculous how small Dean made him feel, especially when he was bigger in the first place.

Dean grinned at his brother, reaching up and touching the back of Sam’s neck, “No one else, just me?” He asked, and the thought pleased him. He knew he had a... Seriously uncomfortable past of promiscuity, sleeping with everyone he could, as often as he could, but he liked the idea of Sam being clean, of Dean being his first.

"Just you," Sam admitted quietly and grinned when he could see the satisfaction on his brother's face. _So much for not telling him_. Sam knew that Dean hadn't waited and, oddly enough, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. Sure it was something that would sit in the back of his mind, but it's not like he was going to whine about it.

“Good,” The younger Winchester whispered, bringing Sam down for another heated kiss. Dean moaned, pressing his hips flush against his brother’s as he touched Sam’s chest and the back of his neck. He pulled away after a moment, “Look, we don’t uh... We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t wanna do... I mean, I’m not gonna be bitter.”

"I've been away from you too long to not do at least _something_ ," Sam pressed his nose next to Dean's, "I mean it could be like it used to be... for a little while, until I'm ready."

The way things used to be wasn't exactly bad either. Sam could remember countless summer days when the air conditioner would be broken in a hotel room, they'd be sweaty and just grind on one another until they both got off.

Dean felt his insides twist again, that familiar way, and he shifted his hips slightly forward, “Sounds good,” He smirked, drawing a few soft kisses down Sam’s neck. He wanted it, more than anything, he wanted it. Had, for so long, dreamed about Sam coming back to him, about how it could be between them.

Sam grinned and his hands tightened on Dean's waist as he walked Dean backwards towards the bed and kissed him once before shoving him back. Sam settled over top of his brother, his hips between Dean's legs and their groins pressing together. He was hard, no doubt, had been for the past twenty minutes. And just the pressure from having his cock pressing against Dean's (even if it was through their jeans), felt amazing.

“Goddamn,” Dean breathed as he smirked up at Sam. He reached back, pulling his smokes from his pocket and setting them on the bedside table, carefully taking off his jacket as well before he grabbed the back of Sam’s neck, kissing him with everything he had. His hips rocked up into Sam’s, freehand touching along his brother’s chest.

Sam groaned from the friction as he nipped at Dean's bottom lip, rolling the hard line of his cock in turn with his brother. He could taste the cigarettes on Dean's lips, but the underlying flavor that was distinctly Dean more than made up for it. And besides, if it was something he had to endure just to be close to Dean - he'd do it.

The younger Winchester had this odd sense of bring-back, to being fourteen years old and writhing underneath his brother. It wasn’t an uncommon thing then, to be like this, but Dean was surprised that, now, he could hold his own. He could also understand everything that was happening, for once, and he moaned against Sam’s lips just considering how twisted the whole thing was.

This was familiar, this situation and the feelings, but Dean _felt_ different. Not necessarily in a bad way, he was just a little bigger and had filled out more. Which mean's that Sam's hands got to re-learn his brother's body. He continued to roll his hips as he panted against Dean's mouth, his palms roaming the younger Winchester's sides as he slid his tongue across the crease of Dean's lips.

“Sam,” Dean whispered, jeans creaking as his legs bent, the pants tightening around his thighs with the stretch. His brother was so solid compared to before. Dean had always thought of Sam as... Like a rock, pounds of strength, maturity and age. He still held that, but he was so much more than before. Built, strong, large, it was like Dean was being swallowed up underneath him, and just the thought of it made his cock even harder than before.

"I wanna..." Sam caught Dean's lips with his own again as he breathed heavily through his nose, hips still rolling against his brother, "I wanna try a little more. I-I mean if that's o-okay?" Sam slid his finger tips just under the waist band of Dean's jeans. Grinding against each other back in the day might have worked for them then, but Sam wanted just a little more.

Dean nodded, suddenly feeling slightly unsure, he hadn’t showered from the day, and he’d been fucking with **other people** , he wasn’t sure what his skin _looked like_ underneath, and other people’s hands and mouths had been on him. He didn’t want to actually **say** anything, to give Sam the idea of everything he did, so he kept quiet, and said, “Yeah, that’s fine, of course.”

Sam watched Dean for a moment, making sure it was okay before he undid his brother's jeans. He wouldn't let it go too far, he just needed _more_. Sam tugged his brother's jeans and boxer briefs down just to his knees. He knelt back a little and undid his own, following suit as he slid his pants down a little as well.

It was unnerving to be so exposed, but it was Dean and, if anyone was going to see him like this, it'd be his brother. He pressed back up against the younger Winchester, his eyes snapped up to Dean's as he tried to ignore the purple hicky on his brother's hip.

"Just this," Sam murmured as he grinded down against Dean, the sensation was almost unbelievable; it honest to God made Sam wonder why they never tried it skin on skin before.

“Okay, yeah,” Dean said, face heating up slightly and he responded in kind, hips bucking up into Sam’s. He could be grateful for small mercies - his brother not wanting more. Dean was sure most of the attention had been paid to his chest and back today, if this was it, then he was safe.

“This is fine,” He reassured the larger man, smiling as he looked down between them, watching Sam’s darker skin against his own.

Sam touched Dean's face hesitantly, it was unfair really, just how beautiful his little brother was. He kept his eyes locked on Dean's as his right hand squeezed the warm flesh on his brother's hip, sliding his cock along side Dean's.

"Christ," Sam bit his bottom lip hard as he applied more pressure, his hips snapping faster.

It was interesting, how different this was to just fucking a total stranger, for Dean, more intimate, more involved than just getting off. Dean was use to being physical, but being with Sam like this was so much more. Still, though, his older brother was on top of him, excited, completely switched on, and Dean could tell it wasn’t something he was use to.

Dean’s hand moved to his brother’s backside, fingers grabbing the taught muscles of Sam’s ass and squeezing, pulling him down harder.

Sam leaned down and started kissing along Dean's jaw, small non-lingering kisses until he reached his neck, then he licked the skin gingerly before biting down. Without pulling away, Sam reached between them and fisted them both, his hand hardly covering their cocks as he started pumping. The grinding was nice, but it wasn't quite enough friction to get him off, and he knew it wouldn't be enough for Dean.

“Ah, fuck,” Dean bucked suddenly, back arching as his hand ran down Sam’s chest, under his shirt, fingers feeling along the strong muscles of his stomach. It was almost unreal, the entire experience, to have Sam come back now, to walk out on his father for the night, to be here with his brother, in this bed, fucking against each other in the dim light as night took over.

Sam's eyes flitted shut, Dean's hands on him while he had both of their cocks in his own was... it was _good_ , fantastic actually. He continued to nibble along Dean's neck, biting his brother's shoulder blade playfully through his shirt.

He was nervous for the most part, it's not like he had a ton of experience and he didn't want to constantly ask if he was doing okay. He tightened his grip slightly and moved his hips a little, moaning when he could feel the plush head of Dean's cock brush against his own.

Dean’s hand moved down to fondle Sam’s balls for a moment before he brought it up, licking the pads of his fingers and thumb before tracing the slit of Sam’s cock, “Damn.” He thrust into his brother’s large hand, causing a tight, heated friction between them as he nipped and sucked along Sam’s shoulder.

Sam moaned and parted his lips, his hand working both of their lengths as he moved his hips slightly. The sensation was almost ethereal, too good and it had been too long since Sam pleasured himself. The heat in his brother's voice wasn't helping, pure sex and smoky in a way that went straight to his dick.

"Can't," Sam groaned, twitching his hips helplessly, "M'gonna..."

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Dean reassured his older brother, lips pressing to Sam’s ear, “Come for me, Sam. Lookit me, an’ come.” He touched his brother’s jaw line, forcing their noses tip to tip as he stared into Sam’s eyes, reaffirming the larger man’s grip around their cocks, and helping him keep pace.

It felt rushed, and Sam wanted this to last, but it was practically impossible for him to keep it together when Dean was telling him that it was okay. He focused on the tiny flecks of gold in his brother's green eyes as he tried to will both his hand and his hips to keep moving.

Dean's skin was so soft and his whole body was giving off this _glow_ , his skin paler than Sam's in comparison and it was one hell of a turn on. He could feel the sensation coiling tight in his hips, the familiar wave of intense pleasure he'd inflicted upon himself countless times before. Except, it was better, because it was with Dean - _**he** was with Dean_.

He kept his eyes open as long as he could until the orgasm sent his eyes snapping shut, his come shooting all over his hand and Dean's cock as he moaned loudly with his jaw hanging slack, " _Dean_."

The younger Winchester’s eyes widened hungrily, drinking in the vision of his brother before him, the orgasm taking control of his facial features and Dean moved forward, kissing Sam’s jaw, kissing his cheeks, “Goddamn, perfect.” He smiled, milking his brother’s pulsing cock against his.

Dean wasn’t even close, but he enjoyed seeing Sam lose it. It was fine, he couldn’t count how many times he’d already gotten off today, himself.

"Shit," Sam sighed heavily and dropped his head to Dean's shoulder. It wasn't supposed to end like this, he wanted to get Dean off - he **needed** it. He gave himself about five seconds to feel bad about himself before he used his come to slick Dean's cock.

"Sorry," He admitted and worked the head of his brother's length slowly as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dean's lips.

“It’s okay, it’s fine, I said that already, Sam,” Dean chuckled, “M’fine without it.” He kissed his older brother’s brow. He didn’t want to just **say** that he’d already gotten off enough, but he didn’t want Sam feeling guilty.

Dean kissed the larger man’s lips and grinned, “Really, just seein’ you, goddamn, that’s enough for me.”

Sam thought back to the diner and how Dean had said he'd already been with the waitress. It had been a long three years and to assume that Dean was... well, that he was in to guys or even more, that he was into Sam, was naive on his part. What'd just happened could have been pity, right? It just didn't make sense that he was okay with Sam getting off, but didn't really care if he got an orgasm in return.

Sam notched his brows together curiously and stilled his hand, "It doesn't feel good, does it?"

“It feels amazin’, of course,” Dean reassured, kissing Sam heatedly, “Why wouldn’t it?” He thrust his cock upward into his older brother’s palm. He didn’t understand where this sudden insecurity was stemming from, but he wasn’t sure how to stop the tide, if he had to.

Sam nodded slowly and began moving his hand again, more pointedly focusing on the head, "Just... just let me get you off, okay?"

He felt his unease subside a little at his brother's words. Sam may have been inexperienced compared to Dean, but he knew what felt good, and he was confident that he could make his brother feel good too.

Dean nodded, “Mm, yeah,” He smiled, dropping his head back on the pillow and rolling his hips slightly. It wasn’t that he faked his enthusiasm, he liked what Sam was doing to him, he wanted it, but he was so oversexed today that it was grueling. He opened his mouth slightly, closing his eyes and breathing, trying to keep his excitement peaked.

There was something odd about Dean's response, but Sam wasn't going to dwell on it. He leaned closer and pressed his lips to Dean's jaw weakly, just the faintest touch and continued jacking him off in earnest. He did to Dean what usually felt good for himself, a slow pace with a firm hand and a few slick twists at the tip. Sam knew he'd keep it up until his brother got off and, if his arm got tired, he'd just switch to a different method.

The younger Winchester opened his eyes again, looking at Sam, looking at the hand on his dick, trying to take in the moment for what it was, trying to give Sam the respect he deserved for doing this with him.

“Touch me,” Dean whispered in weak request, taking Sam’s other hand and resting it over his chest, “Sam, touch me.”

Sam looked at Dean, brows drawn tight in confusion as he moved his hand on Dean's chest to roll one of his nipples between his fingers, "I'm tryin'. I need you to show me what feels good... for _you_." Sam continued to roll the hardened bud between his fingers as he jacked Dean off with slow, sure tugs.

“Goddamn, that does,” Dean gasped in surprise, cheeks heating up. He could never ask for these things with others, but with Sam... **Goddamn** , with Sam. “Just wanna be touched,” He said, brows scrunching in worry as he felt his body rise into his brother’s hand, “ **Please**.”

The older Winchester nodded as he slid is hand down Dean's abdomen and up under his shirt, his finger's eagerly feeling out the already hardened buds, "Okay, got it."

Dean shuddered at the hands on him, chest and hips trying to arch together, but unable to do it successfully. He moaned at the fingers on his nipple and looked at Sam, eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks red and freckles burning on his face.

Sam felt his chest tighten looking down at Dean like this, he was stunning, "God damn, Dee. You're beautiful."

The older Winchester could feel his own cheeks heating up, he'd never really said anything like that to Dean. He wasn't sure if his little brother would take offense or if he'd see it for what it was; an honest compliment.

Sam leaned back a little and propped himself up on his knees, Dean's thighs were over Sam's as he continued to work on him, his other hand guiding slowly down his brother's abdomen as he looked down lovingly at him.

The words surprised Dean, both in a shocking, and a pleasing, arousing way. His body bowed towards Sam, one hand reaching out to Sam’s biceps and he was coming, the white globs landing over his brother’s hand - the one higher up on Dean's body.

“Sam,” He breathed as it happened, looking at his brother in a pained sort of awe.

Sam grinned, a little pleased with himself - the look on Dean's face was breathtaking. He milked the shorter man a few more tugs and pulled his hand away slowly, he licked at the bitter seed the younger Winchester spilled on his hand, his eyes locked with Dean's. It didn't taste as bad as he'd expected, it was something he could definitely get used to.

Dean watched his brother, eyes darkening as he sat up and licked Sam’s fingers clean completely. His entire body was practically humming with excitement, but he was spent, sensitive and needy, sucking the calloused fingers significantly as he stared at Sam and smirked.

Sam could feel his dick twitch with interest when Dean sucked on his fingers and he was glad he got him off, it'd been on his to-do list for years.

"D-Damn," Sam stuttered, his eyes glued to Dean's face in amazement.

“Mm, sounds about right, yeah,” Dean said as he swallowed, looking down at their messy bodies and raising a brow. They looked ruffled, bent out, and spent, it was the most fucking, goddamn hottest thing he’d seen. With all of the people he’d been with, having his older brother over him - nothing even held a candle to it.

“Goddamn, I want you so bad,” He breathed out, unable to stop himself.

"I want you too, I just..." Sam swallowed thickly and looked away, "Soon. I promise."

He was twenty-one and, despite what'd just happened between them, Sam was still... _afraid_? To follow through with it. A big part of him just didn't want Dean to think that this is why he was here, because it wasn't.

“I know, I wanna wait too, just,” Dean bit his bottom lip as he looked Sam over pointedly, “Goddamn, I want you.”

It was awesome, to see his brother like this, and he was being honest. He didn’t want to yet, he had to make sure of a few things before they got into this anymore. He could wait, but **fuck** , Sam looked amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

The night before went well, it was nice that Dean didn't put any pressure on Sam, didn't push him into anything he wasn't ready for. They both ended up sleeping in separate beds, which was fine with Sam **-** it's not like he was expecting some storybook romance, he'd be happy with whatever he got. And he was thankful that Dean wasn't lashing out at him anymore, it was becoming a little overwhelming.

The sun was shining through the windows, hitting Sam right in the face. He groaned in protest and covered his eyes with his hands as he sat up, legs falling over the edge of the mattress. Dean's bed was still messed up, but his brother wasn't in it.

He checked the bathroom to no avail, he wasn't anywhere in their room. It wasn't like Sam was Dean's keeper, he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. It was just that Sam was kind of hoping his little brother would be here when he woke up.

Most of the day went by pretty quickly after that. Sam left the room twice, the first time was just to cruise through the town and get familiar with it, _definitely not to look for Dean. Nope._ The second time was to grab something to eat at the little pizza parlor down the road, pick-up of course, just in case Dean came back.

It was getting late, well after dark, and Sam had pretty much figured Dean would come back whenever he was ready. Getting off together one time doesn't exactly make things exclusive - Sam wasn't **that** delusional.

He glanced at the clock and noticed it was just a few minutes till nine. He propped his legs up on the little couch and sighed, flipping through channels manually. Nothing was on, but even if he found something interesting it wouldn't have kept his interest. His mind was somewhere else and he was actually starting to worry about Dean just a little.

* * *

Dean had left early, closing the door carefully so as not to wake Sam up. He checked his usual spots, the places he knew where to go, the ones he was sure of. Normally, when he did this, he didn’t pay attention to the time passing, it’s hard to keep track of, and nothing turns people away like mentioning a curfew.

He didn’t even realize it was getting late until it was nearly pitch darkness outside, and he decided on it firmly, just this last one. He breathed calmly from the cigarette in his hand, pulling his pants up and climbing into the man’s lap for a second, kissing the beer-tainted lips and snatching the money from his hand before straightening back up and leaving the motel.

He was just a block from his own, so it wasn’t a long walk, but he never liked wandering the streets alone in the dark. Still, it was just **humans** , no biggie.  
Dean pocketed his right hand, thumb brushing his knife as he took short puffs of his cigarette. He reached the motel some time shortly before nine, stanching the bud that was left under his boot, and walking into Sam’s motel room.

Sam decided to play it cool and only gave Dean a slight nod of acknowledgement when he came in, before turning his attention back to the tv. It was good to know he was okay. He was curious, but Sam didn't want to play twenty one questions. And the last thing he wanted was for Dean to get pissed at him for being so inquisitive, so he sat still and said nothing.

“Hey,” Dean said at once, locking the door behind himself an shucking off his jacket. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, breathing it in and laying back on the bed, feet still on the carpet below, “Whatchya been up to?”

Sam shrugged and looked back at the bed towards Dean, "Not much of anything." He glued his eyes to the tv for a few seconds longer and then nodded towards the refrigerator, "Left over pizza if you're hungry." As much as he wanted to ask Dean the same question, he wasn't going to, because he was about eighty percent sure he wouldn't like the answer.

Dean grinned and sat up, “Really? I’m fuckin’ starvin’,” He stood, kicking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. He pulled the pizza box out and took a bite of the first slice, straightening up and chuckling, “Nice, good choice. There’s a few pizza places around that just suck ass.” Normally he went without food until the morning, this was... Definitely something nice to come home to.

Sam turned sideways on the couch and watched Dean eat, he even **ate** like he was starving. He grimaced and cleared his throat, "Dude, did you not have anything today?" Okay, so asking one question was nothing and it was innocent enough.

The younger Winchester chuckled, “Not _exactly_ , no.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, and he was sure Sam didn’t want full details anyways, so being vague was the best response he had. Most of the time he was able to forget completely, whether he was hungry or not.

Sam notched his brows together and bit his lip briefly before his curiosity got the best of him, "Where were you all day anyway?" Dean was his little brother and he was entitled to know, right? That, and he was allowed to worry about him, Dean could get as pissy as he wanted to - _didn't change the fact_.

Dean licked his lips as he turned, pizza box in hand, cigarette between his fingers, and took another bite of his third slice, “Mm, where I **always** am?” He suggested, smiling slightly, “Where I was before you showed up, where I was the day before that, an’ the day before that, an’ the months an’ years before that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back towards the tv, sighing silently, "Tells me a whole lot, Dee." Leave it to Dean to be as vague as possible about things. Especially after Sam had worried pretty much all day about his dumb ass.

“It’s not a big deal,” Dean responded, moving to the bed and wincing as he sat, tossing the box on the mattress beside him, “I mean, it’s been what, _three years_? F’I could handle myself then, I can handle myself now, an’ I don’t go out completely defenseless, so it's not like I'm all fuckin' vulnerable or anythin'.”

Sam widened his eyes just a little bit at Dean's response, "I didn't accuse you of being defenseless, man. I just asked where you were." It was annoying as hell that Dean was skirting around an **actual** answer.

Dean rolled his eyes, “You already got the dad tone goin’ on, man. You should stop tryin’a do that, makes my whole _everythin’_ a little weird.” He finished his fourth pizza and raised a brow at Sam, “So are you gonna come here, or are we gonna be like awkward first date shit or somethin'?”

"I'll consider it if you just tell me where you were," Sam turned and looked at Dean pointedly. It wasn't like Dean to beat around the bush about anything and it was getting old, fast.

“I was out, makin’ money. I wasn't in any specific spot for the entire day,” Dean narrowed his brows, feeling his stomach tighten up, “What else do you need to know, Sam?”

Sam stood and made his way over to the bed, standing in front of Dean as he pocketed his hands, "What kind of job involves moving around **that** much?" Sam shrugged, his tone was soft. The last thing he wanted right now was for Dean to go off on him.

Dean looked away from his brother, licking his teeth and taking a puff on his cigarette, “The kind that’s none of your goddamn business. F’it was, I woulda told you.”

Sam huffed as his shoulder's went lax, "Figured you'd say something like that." He moved away from the bed and sat back down on the couch.

“Why do you wanna know so bad?” Dean asked, suddenly lit up, “Why's it any concern of yours, what I do? I don’t barge in askin’ about your personal life or anythin’.”

"I want to know, because I'm here to spend time with **you**. I didn't come to sit around all day in a motel room wondering where you are," Sam snapped back, standing and closing the distance in just a few strides, "And I know you're a teenager and you're still pissed at me, but your attitude towards me and this angst shit you've got going on is getting real fuckin' old, Dean."

“I can’t just stop my fuckin’ life for you, Sam,” The younger Winchester responded, “Just because mister fuckin’ perfect’s got some fuckin’ holiday break, my life doesn’t stop there. I don’t **get** to have holidays. An’ nothin’s gonna get us fixed up after hunts, or feed us, or pay for other shit we need, f’I’m not out there, on my back, on my knees, every single fuckin’ day. **My** life doesn’t stop a week before Christmas, Sam.”

Sam felt nauseous and deflated all at once, "Y-You're a male... a male prostitute?" It didn't have to be that way anymore, Dean didn't have to sleep with people for money. Sam could, and would, take care of him - if he wanted to come back with him.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean swallowed and turned, taking a deep pull on his cigarette. The tone of his brother’s voice wasn’t one he could remember ever hearing, it kind of bothered him, but he ignored it and kept his eyes averted.

"You know you could always stop. I mean if you wanted to, you **do** want to, right?" Sam questioned, voice sincere, "If you wanted to come back with me, I have money saved up and I have a part-time job. You don't **have** to keep doing this."

“An’ **then** what? I mooch off'a you ‘til my dyin’ day? I leave dad out on the road alone?” The younger Winchester shook his head, "Sounds great on paper, but it’s not. What the hell would I even do then? Where would I go? What life would I have? Who would I even be?”

"You're making this more complicated than it needs to be," Sam shook his head as he talked expressively with his hands, "You **could** mooch off of me, if you wanted. At least you wouldn't have to do _this_ anymore. If you wanted to get a part-time job too, you could. You could live with me and, as far as Dad is concerned, he's a grown ass man, Dean. He can take care of himself... and it's not like you won't see him again."

Dean shrugged, he couldn’t argue this anymore. Sam had points, and Dean didn’t necessarily have the best argument on his side. Especially when he _wanted_ to go, let go of dad, and just be with Sam. He nodded finally, “Alright.”

While fucking everyday wasn’t really something he **didn’t** like doing, it wasn’t exactly a choice paired beside his older brother, and considering how bad his body hurt, he wouldn’t miss the additions that came _during_ it.

Sam looked at Dean curiously and quirked a brow, "Alright?" He questioned, it wasn't like Dean to give up so easily, "Just like that?" He moved closer and sat down next to Dean.

The younger Winchester nodded slowly, “Yeah, alright,” he repeated.

His head dropped suddenly, forehead to Sam’s shoulder. Their father had never cared enough to talk to him about these things, no one even knew what he did, except for the men he fucked, but having Sam not completely turn his back, to insist even more so, it was nice. He felt his eyes burn as he turned into his brother, hiding his face.

Sam wrapped his arm around Dean and pressed his mouth to his brother's head, "I'll talk to Dad about it before we leave." Dean's line of work made Sam slightly uneasy, but there was no way in Hell he could turn his back on his little brother. He'd make things better for Dean, take care of him the way he needed.

Dean sighed against Sam, taking his over-shirt off before climbing into the larger man’s lap. He kept his face away, pressed firmly to his brother’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around them and breathed Sam in. Even though he was decided, and sure that he was going with Sam, it didn't stop the conflict and hurt that leaving his father behind was going to cause.

Sam rubbed his hand soothingly along the bottom of Dean's back, "It'll be fine, he'll understand, Dee." Dean smelled like sex and cigarette smoke and Sam wanted nothing more than to drag him to the shower and scrub it all away, scrub until his skin was pink and Sam knew he was clean.

“He won’t,” Dean said, shaking his head and feeling that sting in his eyes, the one he wasn’t so use to anymore, the one he tried to avoid at all costs. He fought it back, swallowing and tightening his hold on his brother, “He’s not gonna understand, but I can’t keep doin’ this, I don’t want to.”

"I'll **make** him understand," Sam kissed Dean's temple gently, "You shouldn't have to do this anymore. You'd shouldn't have had to do it **ever**."

John was hard headed, no doubt that's why Sam always had a difficult time getting along with the guy, they were too much alike. But, for the time being, he didn't want Dean dwelling on it. They had a few more days left and, if his brother thought on it too much, he was liable to change his mind.

"Hey, just don't worry about it right now, okay?" He wrapped his arms around Dean, his hands firmly on his brother's ass for leverage as he lifted them both from the bed, "Take a bath with me?"

Thank God this hotel had one of those big garden tubs, it would have been a tight fit for them if it would've been regular sized.

Dean’s eyes widened and he looked down, he wasn’t sure his body was in the best state for Sam to see, “Uh...” He started, unsure of what exactly to say to convey that Sam might not want to know of  the paint by numbers of his skin right now, “Uh, Sam...”

Sam carried him to the bathroom and then let him down gently, he kissed his forehead, "I don't care, Dean. Just let me take care of you, okay?"

He cupped his brother's cheeks and tilted his face so he could see Dean's eyes, he tried to convey some sense of reassurance in his gaze before he kissed the corner of his little brother's mouth briefly. He pulled away and turned the water on, testing it with his hand to make sure it was warm before he turned back to Dean.

Sam made sure his touches were soft, with him being unaware of what Dean went through daily, he was trying to be cautious not to hurt him. He lifted his own shirt off and settled his hands on Dean's hips, his fingers tugging questioningly at the hem of Dean's shirt to make sure it was okay.

The younger Winchester frowned, licking his lips, but he nodded and lifted his arms the best he could, even as his ribs and shoulder blades protested warily. Goddamn, he was going to smart so bad in the morning. He honestly feared his brother’s response to this - he wasn’t entirely sure what Sam would do, but he couldn’t imagine it being good.

Sam lifted the shirt off of his brother, his eyes scanning Dean's body slowly. The younger Winchester was covered in scratches and bruises - and that made Sam wonder what kind of sick freaks Dean had been _working_ for.

He ran his hand along Dean's shoulder and down his bicep as he stood closer, he licked his lips before he covered a bruise on his brother's shoulder with his mouth. He undid his own jeans and slid out of them, and his boxers, while keeping his lips on Dean's body.

Sam leaned back a little and tried smiling at Dean while he worked on his brother's pants.

Dean felt his body stiffen in response, and of all of the ways he’d expected his brother to react, that was the least, if even on the radar somewhere. He looked down to his own body, shaking fingers touching a significantly dark bruise below his right peck. The younger Winchester stepped out of his jeans, eyes stilling on Sam’s as he tried to breathe carefully.

Sam pressed a gentle kiss to Dean's neck and grabbed him by the hand as he stepped into the warm water and sat down, "C'mon, baby boy."

Dean’s eyes watered at the nickname, but he kept himself in check as he walked forward and joined Sam, carefully sitting, wincing the entire way down, and letting out a slow, shaky breath as he did so.

“Fuck,” He said, so light he wasn't sure if Sam heard him or not.

"You okay?" Sam reached out and ran his thumb across Dean's cheek, trailing droplets of water across his skin.

“I’m fine, I’ll manage,” Dean took in his bottom lip and smiled weakly at his brother, “I mean, I’ve had worse, it’s just all real sore an’...” His cheeks heated as he realized what he was about to say, “It’s just _all_ sore.”

Sam nodded and leaned forward, his hands found Dean's hips under the water and Sam pulled him close, settling the younger man on his lap. It was strange; from this angle, Dean almost seemed taller than Sam.

He took up the clean rag that was lying on the edge of the tub and got it wet as he reached for the generic body wash and dispensed a generous amount on the rag. Sam started on Dean's chest, rubbing in slow circles to clean him, stealing glances at Dean's face occasionally to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries.

The younger Winchester’s hands moved about the warm water, tracing in it with his fingers before reaching up and touching Sam’s jaw line. “Thank you,” He said, lips numb and he licked them, “I know I haven’t been easy, but... Well, nothin’ else in my life really has, so I guess I’m just a stubborn fuckin’ nut. But thanks.” He felt his chest tighten at his own words. Sam’s hands on him were nice, the heating body underneath him and he’d never felt so at rest, so eased back into this with his brother, just being near him in general.

Sam grinned as he continued cleaning him, "Little brothers are supposed to be shitheads sometimes, right?" Sam knew it would take weeks, maybe even longer for some of Dean's bruises to heal and Sam would make damn sure no new ones appeared.

"Just... don't do this anymore," Sam touched a particularly large bruise on his brother's ribs as he looked at Dean, "Please?" Dean was worth more than this lifestyle and he deserved better things.

Dean nodded, his fingers ghosting over the back of Sam’s hand as he smiled, “I won’t, I... I promise I won’t.” He stared at his older brother, cupping water in his palms as he wet Sam’s hair, “Can I... Kiss you?”

Sam ran the rag along his brother's back and pulled him closer, chest to chest, "You don't even have to ask, Dee. Of course you can."

The younger Winchester shrugged, “I dunno, you just... I dunno,” He shook his head and smiled weakly, leaning down and catching Sam’s lips between his. He felt lighter at once, squirming, melting, almost shaking as he tasted his brother.

Sam furrowed his brows and breathed deep through his nose as he dropped the rag and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, his lips trembling slightly against his brothers, "I just what?"

“I dunno, you intimidate me or somethin’,” Dean answered honestly, “M’not real use to you anymore, an’ the men I been aroun’, well... _You know_.” He gave Sam a significant look, “Or, at least, you get an idea. M’not real use to kissin’, too much.”  
  
" **I** intimidate you?" Sam cupped Dean's cheek and pressed another kiss to his brother's lips, "I know it's been a while, but you know I'm not like them, right?"

Dean didn’t want to say he **didn’t** , he **didn’t** know, he wasn’t **sure** , so he didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and wet the taller man’s hair over again.

"Dean, please," Sam looked at Dean, his voice was pleading, "I mean... I know I've hurt you in other ways," His fingers traced over his brother's bruises, "But I'd never hurt you like _this_." It made Sam's stomach clench to think that Dean was intimidated by him, unsure if Sam would do something like this.

The younger Winchester shrugged again, a weak, helpless motion, “I don’t know.” He looked down between them, to the warm water, and shook his head, “It’s just how I feel, I can’t really help it, I just... M’not use to this, any of this. Sex, fuckin’, gettin’ off, that’s one thin’. This is different. An’ your body, your arms, you’re just... A lot bigger’n me.”

"Well," Sam shook his head and ran his hands along Dean's sides, "You'll see that I'm not, my size has nothin' to do with it. You could probably kick my ass if you wanted to." It would take a while, but Dean would see that Sam was practically just a big teddy bear.

“I probably could, yeah,” Dean agreed, nodding slowly. And it wasn’t like he was trying to get money for his _job well done_ , so there was that as well. He took up the shampoo supplied by the motel and began massaging it into Sam’s scalp, leaning in nervously to press another kiss to his brother’s lips.

Sam tilted his head back and grinned, closing his eyes as he kissed Dean deeply, his hands holding his brother's waist without force. He moaned, low and pleased, the finger tips massaging his scalp felt so damn good. It would take time for Dean to come around, to understand that Sam wasn't like the men who used him. But, until then, Sam would be there to prove himself to Dean.

The younger Winchester broke the kiss finally, trailing them down Sam’s jaw and neck, sucking the skin gently as his hands continued through his brother’s hair, scratching just slightly on occasion, moving low towards the base of his neck.

Sam sighed contently and chuckled, "I know you don't think I'm gonna wash your ass... or your junk for that matter."

Dean laughed and began pouring water over Sam’s hair to wash the shampoo out, “It’s fine, you’d probably end up hurtin’ me anyways. That entire area aches so bad right now, it’s almost numb.”

Sam tilted his head so that Dean could rinse the water out, he watched his brother's face, "Fuck, Dee. I'm sorry." Sam should have known, but no, he had to make some sort of insensitive joke about it. _Figures_.

Dean raised a brow in confusion, completely unconcerned with the off comment, “What? Why?”

"I don't know. I guess for just being insensitive, I didn't know - I didn't think about-" Sam notched his brows together in worry as he stared up into Dean's eyes.

The younger Winchester shrugged and chuckled, “I don’t mind. I mean, it’s weird enough you know about it at all. But I’m not exactly the most sensitive fuckin’ flower on this planet.” He moved back off of Sam, taking the body wash and lathering his hands together before reaching down, under the water, between his legs. His face scrunched up as he cleaned himself, the sting almost overwhelming, but he'd been here enough times for it not to double him over completely.

Sam grabbed the extra rag and washed himself down quick enough, grinning at Dean every once in a while when he'd catch him looking. He got out before his brother and wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, brushed his teeth at the sink and then turned to Dean when he was done, "Well I suppose since you're **not** a sensitive flower, that means you wouldn't wanna cuddle up with me and watch a re-run of El Dorado." Sam wasn't playing fair, he knew that was Dean's favorite John Wayne movie.

Dean’s eyes lit up as he stood to dry himself off, “I don’t think I’d be too opposed to it,” He agreed, climbing out of the tub and joining Sam by the sink to brush his own teeth.

"Cuddlin' isn't too girly for you?" Sam smiled and kissed the side of Dean's face, "Wow." He still had a duty as an older brother to pick on Dean, it was like, in the rule book or something.

“ **Please** , only one I ever really cuddled with was you,” Dean raised his brows, “You think I’m gonna complain about gettin’ close to **that** body?” He grinned and grabbed Sam’s ass, “I may be your kid brother or some stupid shit like that, but I’m not really **easy** to tease. I imagine you gettin’ close in a more sexual way than cooties.”

Sam huffed and smiled even wider, his dimples on full display when Dean grabbed his ass, "We'll get there," Sam turned Dean's face towards him and kissed his toothpaste covered lips, "Soon as you heal up a little."

“Doesn’t mean I can’t grab a few things while I wait,” Dean said, grinning at his brother and tracing the line of Sam’s right dimple, “Mm.”

Sam raised his brows and shook his ass a little as he walked out of the bathroom, "This body is off limits until I can fully reciprocate without hurting you." It was nice; how easy things were becoming between them, they were almost like they used to be.

Dean washed his mouth as he watched Sam. There were a few things he wanted to do to _that ass_ , but he resisted. His brother’s size was still a general problem to him, an intimidation, and it kept him from it. So, instead, he walked out to his own duffel and fished around, grabbing out a change of clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam had pulled on nothing but a pair of boxers and climbed into his bed, a new remote in his hand as he flipped the channel to Turner's Classic Movies. He watched Dean and felt somewhat nostalgic that his little brother wasn't so skinny and wiry anymore, he had muscles where he never had them before.

Dean carefully stepped into the tight black boxer-briefs, wincing as he did so. The real pain was starting to take over, and it was getting hard to even bend his knees. He let out the breath he was holding and pulled on a plain, navy green shirt. Finally, he stood up straight and moved towards the bed.

Sam frowned when he noticed how much pain Dean was in, then patted the bed next to him, "C'mere, good lookin'."

“Okay now, enough of that cheese,” Dean chuckled as he slid onto the bed alongside Sam, lifting his legs, one after the other, with a slight difficulty.

"Enough of what?" Sam slid his arm around Dean and pulled him in closer, "I'm not allowed to comment on your looks?"

The younger Winchester turned and nipped along Sam’s jaw, “Sorry to say it, but I’ve heard worse.” He licked his lips and brushed Sam’s nose with his own, “It’s... Different, comin’ from you.”

Sam chuckled a little, "What are your least favorite terms of endearment? That way I'll know what to stay away from." Sam turned more towards Dean, not even paying attention to the old western on the black and white tv.

Dean frowned, "What's a 'term of endearment'?" He thought about the words together, had never heard the title, but once he considered it he nodded, "You mean like... _Baby boy_? That's like a _term of endearment_?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded and smiled at the question, it was cute, "Like _baby boy_ , _beautiful, handsome_."

“Who needs a highschool diploma?” Dean joked and considered the nicknames he knew of, “I don’t know, like... _Cupcake_ or somethin’. I’m not... I’ve never really been called anythin’.” Besides for ‘ _pretty boy_ ’, but he wasn’t about to bring up standing on street corners, again.

"Okay, so," Sam kissed Dean's shoulder through the thin cotton of his shirt, "Cupcake is off limits. Noted."

Dean laughed and shifted his leg slightly against Sam’s, “Just things like that though, I guess. I like _baby boy_ ,” And the words were out before he could stop them. His cheeks heated and he grinned, trying to feign innocence, turning back to the tv.

Sam pressed his fingers to Dean's chin to pull his attention back to Sam, "Baby boy, huh?" Sam's gaze drifted from Dean's eyes to his mouth as Sam licked his lips absentmindedly, "Thought for sure you were gonna knock me out the first time I called you that."

Dean shook his head slowly, swallowing, “‘Very time you say it, I dunno, I just...” He tried to find the words, “I like it, I get all kinds’a worked up on it, stomach gets tight an’ I almost feel like I can’t breathe. But, like, in a good way?” He suggested, “You should say it when you’re fuckin’ me.”

Sam's eyes widened a little, "I'll uh... I'll keep that in mind." Sam cleared his throat and pulled his eyes from Dean to look at the television.

“Virgin,” Dean chuckled and kissed the corner of Sam’s lips, “It’s hard even imaginin’ it, ‘til somethin’ like that happens.”

Sam grinned a little, he knew not to take his brother's teasing to heart, "D-Does it feel good?" He knew that had to be a stupid question, not so many people would love it if it felt bad. When it came to intercourse though, Sam was naive.

“Fuckin’, or bein’ fucked, or both?” Dean asked, raising a brow.

Sam rolled his eyes a little, "Both, I imagine." The older Winchester could feel a blush creeping up his neck and onto his face.

“Depends, I guess,” Dean ducked his lips, thinking about it, “Fuckin’ pretty much always feels good, it’s tight an’ snug around your cock, feels like everythin’ is gonna be pulled from there. An’ then when you come so hard you can’t feel your toes, an’ you almost can’t move... It’s an’ addictin’ feelin’.”

Sam could feel himself get hard just thinking about it, Dean made it sound... _good_. He shifted on the bed and pressed the palm of his hand against his cock to calm himself down, his eyes still trained on the television.

"W-What about the _other_?" Sam questioned, the nervousness making him stutter a little.

Dean turned into Sam’s ear, “When you’re gettin’ fucked, it burns, normally it burns a **lot** , in the beginnin’, unless they treat you right. It’s different for people, though. But it’s worth it in the end, when they brush across thin’s inside of you that you never even imagined. It’s like lightenin' up your spine, it’s like you’re dyin’, almost, like nothin’ else’ll ever be good enough. It’s like you’ve been ruined, over an’ over, an’ over again. Always hittin’ that spot, an’ your legs get that fuzzy numb needle pain. It’s like comin’ without hands.”

Sam shuddered and let out a heavy breath as he turned his face towards Dean's, "Damn." It was pathetic, but Sam couldn't form a response. He was sure it had something to do with lack of blood flow to his brain, because it was all gathering in his dick.

“Bein’ on the bottom is just as amazin’ as the top, if not better, I think,” Dean said, staring into Sam’s eyes, “It takes time, an’ patience, an’ a lot’a burnin’ an’ almost feels like they’re gonna split you wide fuckin’ open. But, once it gets beyond that, you feel so good that it _hurts_ , like you could come a million times before you caught back up with yourself.”

"Think I got the gist of it, Dee," Sam shifted uncomfortably, eyes still on Dean's as his voice cracked, "You can shut up now." Sam knew he'd have to sneak into the bathroom after Dean passed out.

“ **Or** I could help you with that,” Dean raised a brow suggestively, motioning to his brother’s waist.

Sam was so damn conflicted. He wanted it, **God** did he ever. It's not like they were going to _fuck_ or anything. But, at the same time, he felt like he'd just be using Dean like all the other men he encountered.

"I'm a big boy," Sam licked his lips and tried to play it smooth, "I can do it myself, you know you don't have to do anything."

Dean shook his head and pulled the covers from Sam’s waist, leaning into his older brother’s ear and whispering against the shell of it, “I want to, though, Sam. Let me? I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anythin’ more. Once you come in my mouth, you won’t wanna do so without it again.”

"Fuck, Dee," Sam groaned and shifted again, his palm settled flat on his cock as he looked at Dean with a pained expression painted on his face, "I can't ask you to do that for me."

“You’re not askin’ me to do nothin’,” Dean corrected, ignoring the double negative and taking Sam’s hand, “Only thin’ I want right now is to taste your goddamn cock. Now, are you gonna let me, or am I gonna have to force a blow job on you?”

Sam felt his cock throb, his body was definitely working against his better judgement. He never thought he'd be the type to like the dirty talking, but it sounded pretty fantastic coming from Dean's mouth. Sam nodded and sighed, "Okay."

Dean moved carefully, sliding his body down parallel to Sam’s and pulling back the waistband of his brother’s boxers. He kept his face away as the painfully stiffened cock presented itself. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, observing his brother’s length within a more personal space, the stick of pre-cum smearing on his fingers as he pulled the skin back from the head.

The smell was so very clearly Sam, and Dean's cock throbbed in response. He breathed it in, licking his lips and rolling his tongue over the tip in a single swipe, just enough to test the taste. Sweet, tangy, but Sam was far preferable to others; he could see himself hungering for this taste in the future.

Sam shifted a little and balled the sheets up in his fists, his jaw slack as he watched Dean in awe. It was a first for Sam and although he was glad it was Dean, he also felt really fucking guilty. Just the one swipe of Dean's tongue across the head of his cock elicited a moan from Sam, "Dean."

“Goddamn,” Dean smirked as he saw his brother’s reaction, “I been wantin’ to do this for so fuckin’ long now.”

He fisted the length, giving it two careful pumps before taking it into his mouth. Sam was large, in apparently every single way, as Dean now saw, and his width was probably a good rival to a few Dean had been around, but it was far different, especially seeing his brother on the other side of the cock.

Sam's hips twitched almost involuntarily, the sensation was nothing like he'd imagined in his wildest dreams. Dean's mouth was wet, warm and tight around him and Sam knew he wouldn't last long. He wanted to touch Dean, any sort of physical contact, but he didn't know what to do. Was a hand on the shoulder appropriate? Or maybe in his hair? Sam didn't have a clue so he just fisted the sheets tighter, his knuckles going white and numb as he clenched his eyes shut. The feeling itself was enough to make Sam fall apart, but if he watched, he'd come just that much faster.

Dean pulled back, biting his bottom lip before leaning up and kissing Sam, “F’you want,” He whispered, voice darker than usual, “You can fuck my mouth, f’you want. You’re so tense,” Dean touched Sam’s arms, “Relax. It feels good, an’ you’re in no rush. I won’t deny you, so just... Don’t be afraid to yank or thrust, or fuck my mouth.” He smirked, pulling back again and looking into Sam’s eyes.

"I-I'm trying to relax," Sam stuttered and blushed at Dean's words. The younger Winchester had one Hell of a vulgar mouth on him, it worked for the kid though. Sam didn't want to be like Dean's clients, so to speak. He wouldn't be able to do any of that to Dean, at least not yet.

He released the sheets from his right fist as his fingers gingerly swept through the top of Dean's hair. A more gentle approach was probably a better idea anyway. The corner of his mouth pulled up in a lop sided grin, "Goddamn, Dee. Don't expect me to last long, you're too damn gorgeous."

“That’s fine,” Dean reached up and touched Sam’s hand, his stomach squirming in surprise at the gentle action, “Look, I know I’m... Experienced, an’ stuff. But don’t be embarrassed about comin’ early, or shortly. It’s when you can’t at **all** that there’s a serious problem. I wanna get you off. I want you to feel good an’, if it happens fast, that’s fine. There’s nothin’ wrong with it.”

He kissed Sam’s chest and moved back down his brother’s body, “But don’t force yourself to hold back. You can have your hands on me.”

Sam took a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth, relaxing himself as he grinned at Dean reassuringly. His left fist let go of the sheets and he settled his arm over his abdomen as his right hand held contact with Dean, Sam's fingers still splayed through out his brother's hair.

“Good,” Dean kissed the skin above his brother’s cock, the strong veins visible just under Sam’s skin and he tongued at them, feeling the desperate length press against his throat. His hands smoothed circles over Sam’s sides, trying to keep his older brother both calm and comfortable.

He remembered his first blow job by a man, how almost violent it had been, the eagerness, as if the guy had been starving for him. Dean looked up through his lashes, staring at Sam as he took the length back up in his mouth, the welcoming heat enveloping his brother’s cock once more.

Sam let out a breathy gasp, eyes blown wide from the renewed sensation. He willed himself to stay relaxed though, his fingertips brushing lightly at Dean's scalp as his hips bucked up a little. Sam made sure he kept his eyes on Dean's, focused and curious. Every once in a while his line of sight would stray and Sam would notice the freckles splattered over the bridge of Dean's nose and his cheeks, even his ears. The strong chords of muscle in his brother's neck that were more apparent than ever with him going down on Sam.

He told himself not to watch, knowing that even a glimpse of Dean while being in this situation would be enough to have him screaming Dean's name. He wanted to though, wanted to know what it looked like in person and he wanted to know what Dean looked like with his perfect full lips spread wide across his cock. And it was nice, _no_ , he couldn't even find the words to properly convey just how hot it was.

Sam moaned and arched his back a little, a tight warmth settling in his hips as he continued to watch, " **Christ**."

The younger Winchester couldn’t help but feel slightly cocky, _pun intended_ , knowing that Sam was folding for him, knowing that he had this kind of control over his brother. It was almost like power, like being able to sway someone he’d looked up to his entire life, both figuratively and literally.

He took the weeping cock into his mouth, lips stretching wide as he deep-throated Sam, the full length filling him, his tongue lolling around it’s base as he groaned on it.

The muscles in Sam's stomach tightened up as his head tilted back against the pillow, his hand slid down to Dean's face as his thumb swiped a driblet of saliva away from the corner of Dean's mouth.

"So perfect," Sam murmured, his voice broken and needy.

Dean felt his own cock throb in response, pulling back and taking the length again, sucking on the way down, humming and closing his eyes to keep his throat relaxed.

Sam rolled his head impatiently against the pillow before he propped himself back up on his elbows, watching his brother with his lips parted. He knew he was close and, with Dean's head bobbing on his lap like that, it was a matter of seconds.

He cupped the back of Dean's neck lightly and squeezed as he whimpered, "Dee, I'm close."

The younger Winchester nodded slightly, sucking harder as his right hand rolled Sam’s balls between them, carefully stroking and massaging them. Goddamn, but if that wasn’t _exactly what he wanted_ , more than anything. The idea of Sam filling his mouth was a painfully inspiring one.

Sam came with a choked off yell as he bucked into his brother's mouth one last time, "Dean."

His entire body tensed up and he spilled into his brother's mouth, Sam's eyes were forced shut by the blinding pleasure of it all. Dean was acknowledging parts of him that he hadn't even touched himself, unless you count when he showered. So, It was overwhelming.

Dean pulled back, lips kissing the plush head of Sam’s cock as he swallowed, milking more globs of the sweet come and rolling it around on his tongue. He slowly lapped at his brother’s cock, kissing down to the base and back up, moving low and pressing the warm muscle of his tongue along the skin before Sam’s balls. He licked and sucked, careful to tease his brother as he took the left in his mouth.

Sam grimaced and hissed from how sensitive he was, "Fuck, man, easy."

The younger Winchester was definitely experienced and, as long as he used his techniques on Sam - and Sam only, he was pretty sure he'd be okay with it.

Dean moved up, kissing a trail over his brother’s stomach and chest, his neck and chin, “Mm, isn’t it, though?” He smirked and pressed his body to Sam’s, “Words can’t explain how long I’ve wanted to do that. Goddamn.”

"Pretty sure you could've convinced me to let you do that years ago," Sam grinned easily, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead. He wrapped his arms around Dean loosely and nosed at his brother's temple.

“I don’t think I coulda done it... _Quite like **that**_ , years ago,” Dean tried for vagueness, melting against the older Winchester and smiling. He felt good, for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he felt good for actually giving a blow job; proud. He was proud that he could give Sam this, pleasure him, and make it feel as amazing as he had.

Sam cupped his brother's cheek with his right hand and chuckled before pressing a kiss to Dean's lips, "It still would've been good," His left hand was trailing along the length of Dean's back, feeling out the muscles before his hand stopped on the swell of his ass.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly and he kissed back, breathing carefully as he did so. He almost shivered at the touch of his brother’s hand. Physical touching wasn’t something he did with others, not often, at least. So the hand on him was sort of new, he’d had men touch that area, and do various other things to it, but Sam’s open palm had his stomach squirming at just how tender he was being.

Sam smiled against his brother's mouth, "Did you want me to... you know, return the favor? I've never done it before, but I'd try for you. It's up to you though, baby boy."

“Goddamn, Sam,” Dean hissed as his cock throbbed, hearing the nickname and his eyes darkened, “You don’t have to. I mean, it’s fine. I can do it on my own, f’you’re not comfortable with it.”

"No, I wanna touch you. I just..." Sam traced a few bruises on Dean's back, "I don't wanna hurt you is all." Sam could feel Dean's cock pressing into the side of his leg and he kissed Dean again, briefly before hesitating, "And... I wanna ask you somethin', but I want you to know that I'm not being judgmental, okay?"

Dean shook his head and raised a brow, “Sure, no, it’s fine. I mean, go ahead; I won’t take offense.”

Sam traced Dean's brow with his thumb and sighed, "Have you been careful with other people?" He frowned and cleared his throat, "You're clean, right?"

“Yeah, I’m careful,” The younger Winchester pursed his lips, “I mean, I’m as careful as possible, an’ I went in today, but I won’t know anythin’ for sure for a couple weeks. But I’m as careful as possible, all the time.”

"A couple weeks?" Sam tilted his head back and banged it softly against the headboard, "Damn, Dee." Sam knew without a doubt he'd wait, even if it killed him.

Dean frowned in confusion, “What? I said I was clean, I get checked regularly, I’m careful. Sam...”

"Yeah, I get that," Sam bit his lip before looking at Dean, "But, what if we fool around and your next test results come back positive... for something?"

“It won’t, I’ve been careful. I’ve never been positive for anythin’,” Dean shrugged, “An’ besides, even if I am, givin’ me a blow–” The younger Winchester stopped and shook his head, “You know what, it’s fine.” He rolled onto his back, away from Sam, reaching down as he closed his eyes and forced his underwear down enough.

He touched himself, hand moving up the shaft before taking it in grip, “I can do this myself.”

"Come on, Dee. Don't be like this, you said you wouldn't take offense," Sam sat up on his knees next to Dean and rested his palm on his brother's abdomen, "I wanna do this for you, I do. But, damn it man. You're naive if you think that someone can't catch something from a blow job."

Dean opened an eye, but continued tugging at himself, “You could use a condom,” He suggested as he breathed, calm and slow, the sure strokes of his hand up his cock as he closed his eye once more.

"It's fine, I don't need it."

Sam looked his hands over and made sure he didn't have any hang nails or cuts before he wrapped his hand around Dean's, "At least let me do this for you, okay?"

He felt like shit. Dean had just given him a blow job and now Sam was too paranoid to reciprocate. He loved his little brother, but he wanted to be safe about things. He also wanted to kick himself in the ass for not being more cautious when they fooled around the first time.

The younger Winchester shook his head and smacked Sam’s hand away, “You know what, I’m fine, okay?” He looked at his brother before continuing again, using both hands now as he took his bottom lip in his mouth.

Sam sighed and moved back to his side of the bed as he pulled his boxers up, "Can't believe you're actually mad at me for being cautious."

“Not mad at you for bein’ cautious,” Dean responded, “I mean, I get that. It makes sense.”

He sat up, pulling his underwear back up an sighed in annoyance, moving to his jeans and pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, he was completely off-put at this point, there was no reason to try and tug at a boner he was losing, and his hands were shaking as he tried to light the cancer stick between his lips, but he couldn’t keep his hands still long enough to hold it.

"Then what's the issue, Dean?" Sam questioned, voice timid and curious. The older Winchester was pretty sure he could see Dean shaking like a leaf even if he was blind, and the fact that he was going for his cigarettes, meant that he was either pissed or stressed.

Dean shook his head as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in one hand as he tried to light it with the other, “Just you not trustin’ me, I can’t stand that shit.”

"Are you serious with me right now?" Sam stood up and paced next to the bed, "I trust you, I believe you when you say you've been as careful as possible, but that doesn't mean accidents can't happen."

“An’ what if I **am**?” Dean asked, finally lighting up the cigarette and breathing it in deep, “What if I **am** positive? What **then**?” He looked at Sam as he let out the cloud of smoke, hands still shaking as he did so, “What exactly do you plan to do, if I turn up positive on somethin’?”

Sam ran his hands through his hair and tugged as he let out a frustrated huff, "If that's your way of askin' If I'd leave you, then no, I wouldn't. We'd just have to be careful, Dean." Sam wasn't even sure what they were to each other, but he knew he'd never leave Dean even if something like that did happen.

Dean couldn’t help but be worried now, Sam seemed to be taking this rather seriously, and he had a feeling he should as well. Goddamn, he’d just wanted to get the fuck _off_ , and now it’d become this whole mess. He took another breath of his cigarette and leaned back against the wall until he slumped to the floor.

Sam pressed his back to the wall opposite of Dean and frowned, "Let me guess, you're just gonna shut me out now?"

“What else can I do? I’m like a fuckin’ walkin’ disease ‘til I know I’m negative or not,” Dean rolled his eyes as he took in deep pulls of his cigarette, “Goddamn, that just makes me wanna be fucked more, an’ you’re gonna keep lookin’ at me like I got the goddamn plague or somethin’.”

Sam walked over to his brother and crouched down before him, trying to get him to look him in the eyes, "What do you want me to do then? You clearly have issues with me wantin' to wait. So, what, Dean? Would it make you feel better if I just sucked your dick without knowin'? Hmm?"

Dean shook his head, “No, that’s not what I want.”

He looked into Sam’s eyes, the pain and regret evident on his face. If you’re not comfortable with anythin’ now, like a condom, like protection, how exactly would it be, f’I **was**? Hmm? Then, then nothin’. Then, I might as well stay here, away from you.”

"I tried," Sam pointed to the bed then looked back at Dean, "Just then, on the bed and you swatted me away. I'm trying, Dee. You're the one who's getting defensive and pushing me away."

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, finishing his cigarette and snuffing it out on the carpet, **god** , he just wanted to fuck so bad. All he wanted was to go out and completely forget his last name.

“It doesn’t matter,” He said haphazardly, pressing his fist to his mouth.

"It doesn't matter?" Sam repeated and he felt his stomach clench, this had gone too far, "I don't matter?"

Dean was definitely acting his age. Sam would be as persistent as possible, but he was human, he could only handle so much of Dean pushing him away. He stood up and looked down at his brother, tears stinging his eyes, "Fine." Dean was being a selfish brat, there was nothing wrong with Sam wanting to wait and he knew it.

Dean reached up and flicked off the tv by his side, standing and sighing as he moved to his things, going through them for a change of clothes. He stepped carefully into his jeans and pulled the cigarettes and knife from his old pair, pocketing them as he moved to his boots.

Sam sat down on the bed and watched Dean, not even an hour ago he was wincing with every step. The older Winchester ran a hand over his face and sighed, "What are you doin'?"

“I’m goin’,” Dean said as he stepped into his boots and tied them up, “No reason to sit around here, is there? I don’t wanna deal with this shit.”

"Meaning you don't want to deal with me and the fact that I want to wait," Sam stood and moved to the door, there was no way he was letting Dean go out, "So you'd rather just go out and fuck someone else?"

Dean licked his lips and glared up at Sam from his spot on the bed, “You’re not gonna stop me,” He said, practically grinding his teeth in annoyance, “What’s it matter who I **fuck**? How’s it **your** problem?”

Sam looked at Dean incredulously and crossed his arms against his chest, "You don't mean that, Dee," He shook his head and frowned, "And I **will** stop you."

The older Winchester knew he wouldn't lay a finger on his brother, but he would block the door. It was the only exit and the window in the bathroom was too small for him to squeeze through. Dean was just acting stupid and Sam would wait it out if he had to.

“Sam,” Dean stood and stared at his brother in annoyance, “Why are you **doin'** this? What is your goddamn problem?” He couldn't understand what the big deal was. There was no other possible way to escape this, no way to avoid the way he was feeling, without sex, or something else. He just wanted to be fucked into a goddamn wall or something, numb from the neck down.

"Dean," Sam answered, staring right back at his brother, "You! You are my problem, okay? I've been driving myself nuts over you for the past three years, been working up the nerve to finally come see you, to apologize. And now that I'm here, all you've done is push me away even though you know how I feel. I'd like to think I've handled certain things pretty well, Dean, considering you've been a little bitch the whole time."

Sam hit the wall next to the door and clenched his jaw, "I want you to look at me and tell me that this is what you really want. That you just want to go out and fuck some stranger. Just say it and I'll leave you alone, I'll move out of your way and you'll never see me again."

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise at his brother’s response. He hadn’t expected the older Winchester to take the entire thing so personally, and he was stunned for a moment. Parts of him weren’t entirely sure how to respond, but he stood (to his best ability), walking over to Sam and looking at his brother. He reached out, touching Sam’s shoulder as his hands shook.

Sam's eyes were filled to the brim with tears and his voice was shaky, he looked at Dean's hand and then to his brother's eyes, "Is it what you want, Dee?"

“Sam, I–” The younger Winchester felt his chest tighten at the look his brother was giving him. It wasn’t one he had wanted to see and it was probably going to stick with him for a good while. And, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to do, he was positive that he didn’t want to see Sam in such a state. He shook his head, because it was the only thing he could think of, to do.

Sam felt nauseous and it felt like his heart was lodged in his throat, "Okay then, so stop treating me like I'm disposable and what I want doesn't matter. I know I've fucked up, Dee, but I'm here aren't I?" The older Winchester moved away from the door and went back to his bed and sat down, a few tears sliding down his cheeks.

Dean followed suit, walking to Sam, standing before him and carefully pushing his brother back on the bed. He joined Sam, climbing over him and pressing his lips to the larger man’s forehead. “Hey, calm down,” He started nervously, “I, uh... I’ll stop, okay? Just calm down already.”

Sam nodded and grabbed the back of Dean's neck, "I'm just tired of you pushing me away, man. And, I want you. **God** , Dee I want you so bad, but if I want to wait... I need you to be cool with that."

“Okay, alright, I am,” Dean tried to reassure his brother, his forearms on either side of Sam’s head and he settled in the larger man’s lap, turning to rest his left cheek against Sam’s left temple, “I just... I dunno, I can’t–I mean... This isn’t exactly somethin’ I deal with. I normally avoid it by... By doin’ other people. An’ it’s hard to just sit here an’ take this.”

"Avoid what? Feelings?" Sam questioned quietly and wrapped his other arm around Dean, "And I don't expect you to go two weeks without getting off. We'll try condoms, anything you wanna do, I'll do it. As long as we're being safe, I don't care. And I'm sorry, okay? For making a big deal outta this and making you feel this way."

“Yeah, feelin’, I guess,” Dean shrugged as he settled in his brother’s arms, the pull and strain of his body wearing on him before he slumped sideways and laid down on his side, “I normally just avoid anythin’ an’ everythin’. I mean, s’not like there’s anyone to really deal with it all, an’ sometimes it’s best just to forget ‘bout thin’s for a while.” He avoided the rest of Sam’s comments, eyes looking down at the sheets below them and their cheesy motel standard floral pattern.

"Well," Sam started and rolled to his side to face Dean, his arm draped over his brother's side, "You're gonna have to cut that shit out." The older Winchester leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean's like they hadn't even fought.

Dean smirked and leaned into the kiss, smiling softly as he did so, “That’s not exactly somethin’ I can just shut off, Sam. I mean... Startin’ to let you in is hard ‘nuff. I want to, it’s just–it’s not exactly _normal_ for me.”

"We'll work on it then," Sam caressed his brother's face and leaned into another kiss, "Sound manageable?"

“Sounds like I can try,” Dean said, smiling apologetically, “I mean, I still wanna fuck, but I’m kinda tryin’ not to think about it.”

"Thought you were sore?" Sam grinned, remembering every single wince since Dean had gotten home, "Are you a glutton for punishment or somethin'?"

The younger Winchester shrugged, “Kinda, I mean, I kinda like the pain. S’not really worth it f’it don’t burn just a bit. I mean, s'not like I really had it without that. So I guess the bruises are somethin’ I’ve learned to deal with. I been out an’ about with worse.”

"Is that how you're expecting things to be, with me?" Sam asked as he watched his brother's face carefully, "Or I guess a better question would be, do you want things to be like that with me?" Sam knew that he wouldn't be able to do that to his baby brother if he tried, he didn't have it in him.

Dean swallowed, “Well, I’m not really sure. I’ve never really had it any other way before. So, I can’t exactly be the judge of that or anythin’. I might like it, might not, I dunno. Can’t really say I’d miss the bruises, or much of the violence at all, actually.”

Sam ran his hand along Dean's bicep softly, "Good, because I don't think I could do that to you." Just the thought of some low-life scumbag doing that to Dean was enough to ignite the fire in his bones.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” The younger Winchester moved his hand to Sam’s waist thoughtlessly, “Can’t exactly make you be somethin’ you’re not. I wouldn’t wanna, either. It’s just... A thin’, I guess. Somethin’ I’m fine doin’ without. An’ who knows, might like it more, f’it’s easier.”

Sam shivered from the warmth of Dean's hand on him and pouted, "What do you mean, something I'm not? I **could** be mean if it was warranted." Like, for example, beating the shit out of someone who used Dean or left marks on him.

“Bein' like that, to me,” Dean answered, his thumb moving in slow circles on Sam’s hip as he stared into his brother’s eyes, “You don’t seem very enthused by that.”

"Not to you, no," Sam shrugged and moved closer to his brother, "Someone else though, maybe. I guess If I was pissed off enough."

The younger Winchester frowned in confusion and turned his head, “What do you mean?”

"I just know that I couldn't lay a hand on you in a harmful way if I tried," Sam admitted and kissed the side of his brother's face, "But, I guess just the thought of someone else hurting you like that. I think I'd probably kill someone over you."

Dean’s eyes widened as his brother explained.

“Sam,” He looked down between them, fingers stilling and tightening where they rested as he leaned in, nose touching Sam’s as he stared into the larger man’s eyes, “S’not that serious, you know. I can take care’a myself f’I have to. What happened, it... S’not like it goes another way. That’s just what it is, you get what you can, an’ you deal with what they give you, s’what they’re payin’ you for; the ability to do what they want with what you have.”

"I know you can," Sam kissed Dean chastely and tried to grin a little, "Doesn't stop me from wanting to kick their asses though." Dean was his baby brother, so naturally he'd be protective of him regardless of the situation.

“S’no big deal, what’s done is done,” Dean shrugged, moving a bit and leaning into Sam. He probably reeked of his cigarettes at this point, but he couldn’t help wanting to be closer to his brother.

"I know, Dee," Sam whispered as he linked his legs with Dean's and messed his brother's hair up on purpose.

Dean gave Sam a smarmy grin before pressing their lips together, his hand pulling his brother's hip closer to him, their bodies firm against one another as his arm under the larger man’s neck wrapped around his back and settled on his shoulder.

Sam hummed against his brother lips and then trailed his thumb across Dean's bottom lip as he moved his hips impossibly closer, breathing out heavily, "I missed you."

“Goddamn,” Dean shook his head, “No, words can’t even explain it, Sam. I can’t. I can’t think of a way to explain this entire thin’. It’s just been like a constant fuckin’ nightmare or some shit. ' _Missed_ '... 'Missed' is such a vanilla fuckin’ generic term for me.”

"Unless you can think of a stronger term, then It's kind of all I've got at the moment," Sam pressed a kiss to the tip of his brother's nose, "I know what you mean though. There were nights when I'd wake up yelling for you, broke out in a cold sweat... you know? That whole deal."

Dean chuckled, “yeah, I actually do,” try every day for the past three years; and what he expected to be the rest of his life. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, rather something he’d just expected after so long without Sam.

"Doesn't have to be like that anymore," Sam shook his head and then peppered kisses all over his brother's face, his voice remaining soft.

“I don’t think I could handle it, f’it returned to that, not after havin' this,” Dean closed his eyes and grinned. “Don’t think I would take to that too well.”

"It won't be like that again," Sam reassured and kissed Dean, slow and promising. They had a connection unlike anything else Sam had ever known. It was bizarre, but it was just so typically them. Sam knew he'd do anything to make Dean happy, go to any length. And he knew Dean would do the same for him.

The older Winchester looked his brother's face over lovingly and breathed out, "I love you, baby boy," His voice was quiet, but then again, Dean was close enough to hear it.

Dean felt his entire self twist at the words, the sparks of them lighting up the most unregistered parts of his body and he couldn’t help the smile that broke his face, pulling Sam closer and turning his nose into his brother’s cheek, “I love you,” he responded at once, an almost reflex, not out of habit of saying the words, but because of reflection, a parallel to the other man; something entirely out of his control.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean wasn’t use to waking up in the arms of another person, least of all someone that nearly smothered him with the size of their massive biceps, folded around him in a protective, loving embrace.

His hands were pressed to Sam’s chest in an oddly feminine way, and he pulled his nose from the crease of his brother’s left armpit, cheeks sticking to the skin as he registered the warmth enveloping him. He felt, oddly, safe, and his insides twisted a little at it.

Dean smiled and pressed his face to his brother’s chest, breathing him in.

The body heat between the both of them was nearly sweltering. Sam alone was like a human space heater, but with both of them clinging to one another, it was like a sauna under the blankets. It was nice though, in a weirdly comfortable way.

Moments like this made Sam realize how much smaller Dean was than him, how delicate his brother's features were in stark contrast to his personality. It was amusing, sort of.

The older Winchester kissed the top of his brother's messed up hair and smacked his lips, grimacing at his morning breath, "Morning."

Dean looked up, almost startled by his brother’s voice, sudden and directly in his ear, he smiled though, already caught, and nosed Sam’s right peck. “Mm, mornin’,” He responded, hands sliding down the larger man’s chest and stomach.

Sam groaned at the contact, every part of his body was sensitive as Hell, always was when he woke up. The older Winchester rolled so that he was on top of Dean, smiling down at his brother's sleepy face and his sparkling green eyes.

"You know, I could get used to seein' your mug every morning," Sam admitted, his voice still gravelly with sleep as he leaned down slowly as he kissed the corner of Dean's mouth.

“Hmm?” Dean asked sleepily, legs spreading as he ignored the nervousness inside, having the larger man splayed on top of him. This entire situation was something he wasn’t sure he’d get use to any time soon. He tried to take it at face value though, accept it for what it was; nice, warm, welcoming.

“I couldn’t,” He chuckled, stretching somewhat, back arching and pressing his body into Sam’s as he felt his back pop.

That hurts, Dee," Sam smiled, his voice not matching his expression at all.

He propped himself up a little with his left elbow, his body still pressing against Dean's. Sam's right hand disappeared underneath the blanket to grasp his brother's thigh, just one firm squeeze at the meaty flesh and he trailed his hand up to Dean's hip.

The younger Winchester grinned and spread his legs wider, “Mm? Well, I wasn’t tryin’ to be all nice’n shit.” He chuckled again, glancing down at Sam with one eye open. The larger man’s hand on him was causing obvious hardness to occur, something he wasn’t exactly in position to hide.

Sam bit his lip, contemplating, "So you wouldn't wanna wake up to," The older Winchester rolled his hips obscenely against Dean as the corner of his mouth pulled up, " _This_ , every morning? Shame."

“Shame, m’hm,” Dean agreed, eyes closing as he let out a heavy, bated breath and his palms settled on his brother’s larger shoulders, fingers pressing into the skin as his body responded. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows scrunching to hide the effect the older Winchester was having on him.

"You know waiting is gonna be worth it, right?" Sam questioned semi-rhetorically as he continued rolling his groin against Dean's, his erection throbbing from the friction, "It's just gonna make it that much better when it **does** happen."

The older Winchester kissed lazily along Dean's jaw and down to his neck, "Besides, I think I'd kill myself If I lost my virginity in a shitty hotel like this."

Dean frowned at the off-handed comment, “It matters _where_ it happens?” Because he remembered his own experience, but he didn’t voice it aloud to his brother. That was probably something better off kept to himself, if Sam got angry just knowing about things now, **then** would definitely be a problem.

Sam shrugged as he pulled his lips from Dean's neck to look at his brother, considering the question, "I suppose not," Sam looked around the room then back to Dean, "Doesn't matter much, as long as I'm with you."

“I mean, I’m not sayin’ I wanna do it now, or here, for that matter, I just don’t think it should,” Dean explained, slightly nervous, “An’ really not with dad just a few rooms over, an’ we’re plannin’ on packin’ an’ leavin’ today. I’d rather not all’a that land on the same day.”

Sam breathed out heavily as he pressed his face against Dean's shoulder, "Speaking of dad, I want you to let me talk to him alone, alright?" One thing was for sure. Sam knew John wasn't going to take too kindly to Sam taking Dean back with him and he'd rather his little brother wasn't around for the brunt of it.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked, sounding concerned. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his brother to deal with that mess. John wasn’t going to be happy, not in the slightest, and the thought of it still sort of bothered Dean.

“He’s not gonna like it, Sam.”

"You're right, he's not," Sam confirmed and then looked at Dean as he tried for a reassuring smile, "But I think It'll go better If I talk to him alone."

Dean started to shake his head, but stopped. Sam would probably handle the entire situation better than him, on all accounts. He forced himself to nod, “Alright, f’it’s what you want.” He couldn’t exactly argue, he was both younger and less experienced with dealing with leaving his father.

Sam smiled and kissed Dean quickly, "Alright, good," He patted Dean's thigh as he rolled off of him and stood, "Probably wouldn't hurt to start packing," in case John took it a **lot** worse than he expected and they needed to get out quick.

“Well, that definitely sounds promising,” The younger Winchester said, standing up as well and pulling on a new pair of jeans, “Man, I’m seriously not lookin’ forward to this.” He reached back for a cigarette and lit it up the moment it was between his lips.

Sam's eyes lingered on the cigarette then darted back up to Dean's eyes as Sam shook his head disapprovingly, he didn't say anything though.

"It'll be fine, Dee," Sam moved to his duffel bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and slid them on, followed by an old ratty Iron Maiden shirt that Dean had gotten him over three Christmases ago, "All you have to do is stay in this room and look pretty until it's over."

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like doin' it,” Dean breathed, taking a long pull from the end of the cancer stick and grabbing up his duffel bag, “Uh, I might still have a few things over in dad’s room. I don’t think I brought everythin’ with me when I came over. I mean... Didn’t exactly think-uh- _this_ was gonna happen.”

Sam stilled and looked at Dean before running a hand over his face as he sighed, "Shit, looks like you're coming with me after all. Just make sure you grab your stuff while I'm talking to him." The older Winchester picked up his shoes and moved to the bed to put them on.

Dean nodded and moved to his own boots, socks in hand as he sat, pulling them over his feet. “It’ll be fast, won’t be but two seconds.” He couldn’t help feeling like he needed a cigarette, and that was bad, considering he already had one lit.

Sam stood and moved over to Dean as he bent over, he planted a slow lingering kiss to his brother's tobacco tainted lips before he pulled back and grinned (despite the taste of ashtray in his mouth).

The older Winchester grabbed his duffel bag, went to the bathroom, and threw his toothbrush and hair pick in his bag before joining Dean back by the bed, "You ready to do this?"

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dean agreed, taking another puff on his cigarette and standing up. He moved over to the table and pulled up his jacket, slipping his arms into it before looking at his duffel bag, “We packin’ the car or...?”

"Probably a good idea to put the bags in first, just in case," Sam shrugged nonchalantly, duffel bag in hand as he moved towards the door. This was either going to go bad or really, **really** bad.

Dean nodded, “Yeah, I thought so,” He picked his own up and followed his brother, joining him outside and walking to the Impala.

Sam paid no mind to their father's room as he opened the driver's side door and threw both of their bags in the back seat. He turned to Dean and grinned despite his nerves, "Show time, baby boy."

Dean let out an uneasy, shaky breath, taking Sam’s arm for a moment out of reflex, looking to his brother for some form of support and strength; reassurance.

Sam looked to their father's room, unsure if he was looking out the window or not before he cupped Dean's cheek softly, "It'll be okay, alright? Just let me handle it."

“Yeah, I know,” The younger Winchester turned into his brother’s hand, closing his eyes, “Think I’ll just try to be as quiet as possible. Nothin’ I say can really help any of the situation.”

"Let's just get this over with, okay?" Sam traced his thumb along the freckles under his brother's left eye before he dropped his hand and headed towards the door. Sam straightened his back and took a heavy breath before knocking loudly three times.

Dean stood uneasy at Sam’s side, closing and opening his hands over and over again until he finally resulted in pocketing them altogether.

When John opened the door, he gave them both a once over and moved from it to allow them in. Sam made sure he stayed by the entrance, but he spoke up quickly, considering this wasn't something you just beat around the bush about, "Dean's coming back with me, to Stanford. I'll make sure he calls and visits, look out for him and what not."

John turned to Sam, his gaze was set to kill, but his voice was eerily calm, "I don't think so, Sam."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, "There's not much you can do, Dad. He's seventeen, almost eighteen. You can't stop him from coming with me."

John stepped closer and grinned almost sarcastically, "You're both just boys, you think you can take care of him? You probably don't even have your gear anymore, Sam. What happens if somethin' attacks you boys?"

“I can take care of myself,” Dean said out of reflex, even though he’d been trying not to, he’d been sincerely meaning to stay out of the entire thing, but the words came out anyways.

Sam looked pointedly at his brother and tried to will him to stay out of it before locking eyes with John again. It wasn't just that their father was angry, it was more than that, he was upset.

He shrugged and nodded towards the outside, "Believe it or not, I still have **all** of my stuff. It's in the trunk. And I know I can take care of him," Sam looked at Dean and thought of what his brother had been doing for money, "I'd do a better job at it than you've been doing, anyways."

Sam was pretty sure he saw some sort of recognition in his father's eyes before John's fist flew out and connected with Sam's face, leaving him flat on his ass as he looked up at their father.

"I tried to do the best I could by both of you, but after you left, I practically lost Dean too," John growled, his face fierce, "He's been like this for the past three years, ever since you left. So go ahead, take him back to Stanford with you, Sammy. Maybe you can actually get his ass to straighten up, 'cause I sure as hell couldn't."

Sam stood and winced, he knew their dad had to of left a mark or busted something. He kept eye contact though. He might not have always gotten along with John that well, but he respected the man.

The older Winchester nodded and didn't say anything else, he just looked at Dean and said, "Let's go."

Dean had gathered his stuff together, eyes wide as he watched the exchange between the two of them, trying his best to keep his head down and his mouth shut. He nodded to Sam and moved to the door. Dean looked at his father wearily. What else could he say, what else was there?

“Be careful.”

Sam cleared his throat and moved from the wall, "I'll have him call you once we get him settled in."

Much to Sam's surprise, John didn't say anything, instead, he glared at Sam briefly and then went to the fridge for a beer.

He didn't stick around long enough for things to go any further, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the Impala.

* * *

The drive back was longer than the drive down and just **slightly** awkward to boot. They hadn't really said much to one another during the trip, Sam was sure they were both thinking a little too hard about what had happened.

When they made it back, it was around late afternoon, the sun was about to set. Sam was glad to just be there, and to have Dean with him this time, he was stiff from driving all day - regardless of the few gas stops that allowed him to stretch his legs.

This could be like a new beginning for the both of them, a fresh start with each other, Sam was sure of it. The older Winchester turned to grin at Dean as he unlocked his apartment door to let them both in. The air was stale, but everything just as he left it. He sat his bag down next to the door and turned to Dean and tugged on his jacket, "Would you like a private tour?"

Dean set his own bag by Sam’s, nodding slowly as he looked around, observing the calmed, settled living space with widening eyes.

“Yeah,” He said, swallowing. Technically, he’d never really been in an actual **house** , not to stay, not since Lawrence, Kansas, and he was slightly nervous about the entire thing.

"Hey," Sam grabbed the other side of his brother's jacket and walked backwards, pulling Dean into the living room, "This is gonna be good for us, baby boy. Calm down."

“I know, I just...” Dean shook his head and smiled weakly at his brother, following him, “I’m intimidated all over again, I guess. Kinda stuck here with you now.”

" _Stuck_?" Sam questioned as he stopped moving, "I thought you wanted to come." His brother's choice of words hurt a little, it wasn't like he **forced** Dean to come with him.

The younger Winchester moved in close, lifting up on his toes and kissing Sam, “I don’t mean it like that, I mean it like... It’s not bad. I don’t mean ‘stuck’. I wanna be here, m'glad I'm here.”

Sam raised a brow and then nodded slowly as he pulled Dean in closer, wrapping his arms around him, "Just know that you have a choice, okay?" He shrugged and kissed his brother hesitantly, "I don't ever want you to feel stuck with me or be intimidated by me."

Dean licked his lips and nodded, “Well the last part can’t really be helped, can it? It’s not in my complete control to think of you that way yet. I mean, it’s a matter of time, right?” It was already done anyways, and it wasn’t like Dean wanted to go back to his dad, especially **now**.

Sam nodded once and moved back again as he continued to show Dean the rest of the apartment. It wasn't huge, but it would house the two of them comfortably.

The end of the little tour ended in Sam's bedroom and he smirked as he looked around, his eyes settling back on Dean before sitting down on the edge of the California king-size bed, "And this would be our bedroom, unless, you know... you wanted your own bed. In which case you could have the spare room, I suppose."

The younger Winchester shook his head, pulling off his jacket finally and kicking away his shoes, “No, it’s... It’s fine. I wanna share, I like sleepin’ with you. It’s not a big deal.”

He chuckled as he walked forward and stood in front of his brother, “I’ve never really had nothin’ to myself like this, you know? I think I’d feel even weirder f’I had a room to myself.”

Sam smiled warmly and then reached out, his hands tugging at Dean's hips to pull him closer, "Consider everything here yours."

The thought of anything in this house actually being **his** was something that stunted Dean, he’d never really had a single thing to himself, and most of his treasures were gained from bringing down something on his own, stealing, or some other means that probably wasn’t nearly as legit as anything his brother had done to get a **single thing** in this place.

A bed, hell, even **that** was a thought that he’d never even considered, and the size of it was fucking intimidating on it’s own; and it was **just** a fucking bed.

Dean swallowed nervously, considering it all and rolling his shoulders as he tried to hide the reality of the situation for him. “Sam,” He shook his head carefully, “M’not exactly sure what to say.”

"It's fine," Sam pursed his lips, he knew his brother was a little overwhelmed and it would take some time for him to warm up to this whole thing.

The older Winchester wrapped his arms around Dean, "I do want to talk to you about something though, and I don't want you to think I'm trying to be authoritative or anything, alright?"

Dean frowned at the comment, he’d seen how well this had boded for other things Sam had brought up, and it made him slightly concerned. He was probably going to get upset, no matter how his brother worded it, but he nodded carefully, still standing as he moved closer between Sam’s knees, “Okay...?”

Sam fiddled idly with his brother's belt loops, almost afraid to look Dean in the eyes because he **knew** what kind of reaction he'd get, "It's about the cigarettes, man. I think you should try to quit, you're too damn young to be scarring your lungs up like that."

The younger Winchester considered the suggestion and shrugged, “I don’t really need ‘em,” He said, ducking out his lips and notching his brows together, “F’you want me to, I will.”

"Really?" Sam questioned, almost stunned as he met Dean's eyes, "I mean, I've noticed you only really smoke when you're stressed out. So if you start feeling like that, come to me and I'll try to help." The older Winchester pulled Dean flush against himself and traced the soft skin under the back of his brother's shirt.

“Okay, yeah,” Dean licked his lips, staring down at Sam and resting his forearms on his brother’s shoulders. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to Sam’s, breathing through his nose as his fingers touched the back of the larger man’s neck tentatively.

He wasn’t entirely comfortable with being so bold with Sam just yet, and even with others he hadn’t really initiated much, so this was sort of one of those unusual firsts for him. He knew it was just a matter of time, that he got use to things like this, he couldn’t wait, was almost eager just to get to that state, but it’d take time. It’d take a **lot** of being around Sam, before he was able to open up completely, and do things that he really, really wanted to.

Sam smiled against his brother's lips as he held him close, "I love when you touch me, Dee." It was silly, yes, but Sam had initiated most of the touching that had happened and it was nice when Dean did something without being prompted too much.

The older Winchester slid his hands to Dean's ass to hoist him up onto his lap, his palms ultimately settling on the younger man's waist.

Dean’s eyes widened as his brother lifted him, he always felt like Sam was larger, stronger, older, but it was things like _that_ that made his stomach flip. He wasn’t really sure if he liked it just yet, Dean had always associated larger men with weariness, being worried about not being able to protect himself. It was the sign of a harder man, someone that could, and probably **would** , do him serious harm. He tried to keep it there though, in the front, that Sam **wouldn’t** do that, but he was so use to it now, it was like second nature.

“M’just... Tryin’ to get use to it.”  
  
Sam nodded as his lips ghosted Dean's and his hands were completely still on his brother's waist, "Did you wanna call dad and let him know we made it?" He was having a hard time figuring out what Dean was thinking. One minute he'd act close and comfortable and then the next, he'd be more closed off and guarded.

“Not yet,” Dean leaned in carefully, “I mean, you got us like this for a reason, right? S’the point in callin’ dad right now?” He leaned forward, his lips touching lightly along his brother’s jaw as his fingers combed the hair against the base of Sam’s neck.

“Wanna try somethin’,” He whispered as he felt his heart racing with his own words, drawing a line of carefully placed, tentative kisses up to Sam’s ear.

Sam hadn't really thought of it, but he didn't position them like this with intent. He just wanted to be close to Dean, nothing obscenely sexual had even crossed his mind. Until now, now that Dean had pointed it out.

He moved both of his hands up under the back of his brother's shirt and felt out the soft expanse of skin beneath his fingertips, Dean's actions slowly but undeniably making him hard, "Hmm?"

Dean’s hands moved at once, dropping from Sam’s hair and touching the front of his shoulders before carefully, suggestively pushing the larger man until he was laying on his back. The younger Winchester pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, shifting his hips as his knees slid over the comforter of the bed below them, gaining purchase as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the underneath of Sam’s jaw, “This is fine?”

Sam's hands had slid to Dean's lower thighs, just above his knees as his breathing hitched when he looked up at his younger brother, "Of course it is." It was more than fine actually, Dean pushing him back like that was... **really** fucking hot.

“Good,” Dean breathed out along Sam’s neck.

He had never really done anything like this, which was almost an outrageous thing to consider some times, that he’d been so sexually active for the past three years; and yet he hadn’t been entirely suggestive, or forceful. And, now that he thought about it, really all he’d even done was just take it. Though he’d been on the top before, even then it wasn’t an often occurrence that he just acted out without request, or something of the like.

He had to keep himself calm now, had to reassure himself that Sam was alright with this, that he had to get use to it; he wanted to. It just wasn’t something he’d really been in practice of.

His fingers carefully pushed Sam’s shirt up, they were shaking, not from the lack of a cigarette, but from an actual sort of fear digging into him, a kind of unsure hesitance - but he forced himself to do it.

Dean swallowed, breathing through his nose as he pushed the shirt even higher, the tips of his fingers ghosting the heated skin underneath.

Sam arched his back a little, pressing his frame into Dean's touch, trying to show him that this was okay. The older Winchester could see the hesitance on his brother's face, borderline terror and Sam knew that it had to do with Dean's previous line of work. He wanted to soothe him, let him know that he wouldn't treat him like that. But, in the end, he knew that there was nothing that would sate Dean, but time. He reached up, slow but sure as his thumb traced along Dean's lips.

Dean’s eyes met his brother’s and he continued, pushing the shirt up to Sam’s chest, just under his armpits. He wanted to ask again, if it was okay, even though the larger man was conveying - clearly enough - that it was. He just wanted to be sure. But he didn’t, he kept his mouth shut.

Dean moved lower, finger sliding down the skin, palms touching first, heating his hands against Sam as he drew them along the older Winchester’s ribs. He opened his mouth, looking up through his lashes as he kissed the center of Sam’s chest.

Sam watched Dean and felt his body react to his brother's gestures, a dull ache of nothing but want began burning in his groin. He ran his hands through the soft spikes of the younger man's hair, his eyes lustfully glued to Dean's as he moved his hips a little. It was insane, really; that a kiss to the chest could be so painfully erotic.

Dean took the soft touch of his brother’s fingers in his hair as a reassurance, and he needed that in abundance by now. His guts were twisting with every movement he made forward, his hands taking Sam’s hips under them, squeezing the bone and muscle and drawing him closer, that was enough to make him want to stop, just because he **still** wasn’t sure, wasn’t one hundred percent positive that he wasn’t pushing it.

Sam seemed fine, hadn’t made any attempt to stop him, and Dean had to fight against everything inside of him to push forward. His lips moved down along the expanse of his brother’s sternum, lower, even lower then, into the dip of Sam’s stomach. The softness of it was still probably double the taught of the most developed muscles Dean had, and that was something he couldn’t help taking into account. His eyes flicked back up in a nervous, paranoid way, just in case Sam changed his mind.

Sam nodded solemnly and tried to speak up, his voice heavy with lust, "It's okay, baby boy."

Part of Sam just wanted to hold Dean and repeat that over and over, but other parts of him, other _increasingly_ hard parts of him wanted Dean to continue. The older Winchester parted his lips in pleasure as he looked at Dean, his brother's soft lips heating up parts of him he didn't know existed. He trailed his finger's from Dean's hair down to his face, touching his cheek like he was the most precious thing in Sam's life. _Which he was._

“Just tell me, okay?” Dean started finally, unable to stop himself, voice shaken with his concerns, “Tell me f’I do somethin’, alright?”

He didn’t know what ‘something’ would be, whether it was too much for Sam, or something he **didn’t** want, Dean wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping for, probably for Sam not to say a goddamn thing, but he didn’t voice that opinion out loud. He just wanted to take his time, he wanted this to be slow, exploring, and he didn’t want to seriously fuck it up. If Sam could just lay there and allow it to happen, it’d probably be perfect then.

Dean returned to what he was doing, hands moving up to Sam’s chest, thumbs brushing the larger man’s nipples, tweaking them just enough. His mouth sucked into the space just under the left side of Sam’s rib cage, dipping into the cave of it as his knees scooted back to make the position more comfortable for his neck.

Sam nodded without a word, understanding his brother's request perfectly without further explanation. He knew he wouldn't have to say anything though, he wasn't necessarily sure where this was heading. But, with Dean barely clinging to his courage the way it was, he'd just let his brother do whatever, as long as it comforted him.

He let out a shocked yet pleased gasp just then, arching his back a little as Dean played with his nipples. It wasn't something he'd ever really experimented with on his own. To be fair though, there wasn't much at all that Sam had actually done. The older Winchester timidly cupped the back of Dean's neck without squeezing or applying any sort of pressure, he just wanted to touch him, _needed_ it.

Dean felt a slight surge of adrenaline with his brother’s response, boldly moving lower, tongue and teeth tracing lines through Sam’s skin, down across his stomach. He wanted to be able to do this with Sam, eventually, without fear or hesitation at all.

He wanted to be able to look at Sam as an equal, and not worry so much. And he knew that it was a problem, he recognized it, he knew it wasn’t appealing or attractive, but he couldn’t **help** it. He couldn’t help being worried, or being intimidated.

He couldn’t help thinking that Sam just **wouldn’t** like him in control. Even if he was submissive about it, taking the reigns seemed wrong. Most men just took what they wanted, and Dean normally laid there and let them, be forced around or shoved and pushed, and coaxed, into things. Sam was actually letting him do _this_ , and he almost didn’t know **what** to do.

Sam thumbed the skin just beneath his brother's ear, still trying to convey that whatever he was doing was okay. The older Winchester almost felt stupid with how good Dean's tongue and teeth felt on his skin, he tried to not move his hips as his mouth parted and he gasped, "Fuck, Dee." Something about seeing his little brother act so timid and unsure in contrast to how he usually acted, it tugged on Sam's heart unexpectedly.

The sound of Sam’s voice, the hand touching his face, spurred Dean forward as he carefully unbuttoned his brother’s jeans. He looked up over the larger man’s body, the chiseled muscles, the gleam of Sam’s golden skin spread out for him, and goddamn he went rock fucking solid just staring.

His brother was an amazingly beautiful piece of work, and it still stunned him that **he** had this, that it was his brother, that he could have it for himself. It almost wasn’t fair to everyone else in the world; that this was his, and his alone.

Dean swallowed, “Can I uh,” he motioned to the pants, to take them off.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at Dean, "Sure."

It was almost breathtaking, to look at Dean like this, despite everything he'd been through - he was still wide-eyed and beautiful. And part of Sam prided himself on the fact that he was the one to get him out, sort of like he gave his brother another chance before it was too late.

Dean tugged the pants down to Sam’s ankles, his boxers alongside them as the older Winchester’s cock sprung free, nearly smacking his hip.

“Kinda hard ‘nuff, yeah?” Dean chuckled as he moved back to Sam’s waist and his eyes took in everything his brother had to offer.

Before had been so quick and heated, he felt like he hadn’t had enough time to become _familiar_. He looked over the strong, prominent veins above his brother’s cock, a showcase of maturity, little lines carved in the skin, leading from his abs to the weeping member.

Dean licked his lips, and then his shaking fingers reached out to trace at them, eyes widening. They were beautiful, and he had to see what they felt like.

Sam ran his long fingers through his hair and bit his lip, shrugging lightly with one shoulder, "You have that effect on me."


	6. Chapter 6

Under Dean's gaze, Sam didn't feel like he was being scrutinized. The look on Dean's face was almost appreciative and a little apprehensive and it made Sam want him that much more.

Dean traced the veins, tongue after hand, his palms moving down along his brother’s thighs, then back up to carefully cup Sam’s balls as the younger Winchester nipped and sucked the skin. He wanted all of it, everything he could touch, his mouth wasn’t nearly fast enough, he just wanted to feel and taste everything of Sam’s.

Dean kept himself back though, moving to the larger man’s dick and taking just the tip between his lips, suckling the head as his tongue brushed out over it, a slow drag followed by eager little flicks.

Sam watched his brother, his tongue sweeping out occasionally to wet his lips. It felt so surreal to be in **their** home in a position like this with Dean, who was also his, even if that was something left unsaid.

Dean shifted, mouth lowering, taking his entire length in one breath, his right arm was settled between Sam’s legs, fingers fondling his brother’s balls as the other reached up along the larger man’s stomach, tracing the lines of chiseled muscle as Dean began to work Sam’s cock in his mouth, tongue lolling about, hot breath enveloping his brother as the younger Winchester’s lips tightened and he pulled back, sucking the entire length as he reached the plush head.

Sam almost choked on a breath as he leaned up a little more to watch Dean, this was a sight he couldn't quite get enough of, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, baby boy."

The older Winchester immediately remembered the argument they had after the first time Dean gave him head. And, truth be told, seeing Dean like this made Sam impatient. He wanted to have sex with Dean and he didn't know if he had it in him to wait.

“Can’t just,” Dean took Sam’s length again, repeating the motion before grabbing the back of his brother’s neck and lifting up slowly, a line of spit breaking between his lips and Sam’s cock as he upturned his jaw and kissed his brother, “Can’t just say somethin’ like that.”

He was only slightly breathless, but he moved back down, sucking the sides of the throbbing erection, “You obviously want this,” He said, eyes darkening before he closed them, lips wet as he sucked along the main vein.

“Lemme do it for you.”

"Of course I want it, I want you," Sam admitted and licked his lips to taste what was left lingering of his brother, "I just... I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to do it is all." It took everything Sam had in him not to just bend Dean over and try it, but with his lack of experience, he knew he'd make a fool of himself.

“You wanna feel good, right?” Dean raised a brow as he pulled back for a moment, staring into Sam’s eyes, “S’what you want?”

Sam was slightly taken aback by what Dean had said, it didn't sound intimate, sounded more like business on his end.

The older Winchester took a deep breath, opened and closed his mouth a few times before he spoke, "Yes, but..." Sam shook his head, "It's not something I want unless I know you want it too. I don't want you to do these things because you feel obligated or something. I wanna be able to make you feel good too, Dee."

Dean shook his head and shrugged, “I don’t need to, m’fine.”

He palmed Sam’s cock, using the spit he’d left behind, “You wan’ it. Stop fightin’ already an’ let me blow you.” He moved back down, taking the length in his mouth once again, his other palm reaching out to push Sam onto his back once more, trying to ease the older Winchester.

Sam hesitated before lying back as he let out a shaky breath, covering his face with both hands briefly, it didn't seem right. It wasn't that he was fighting, it was just that he wanted to do something that Dean would enjoy as well. He'd been thinking about it, about what Dean had said about protection and he made a point. They wouldn't necessarily need to wait, Sam had just wanted something to sate his mind. And until they got the results back, they could be careful, right?

The concern, or whatever it was Sam was showing, was a nice thought, but it was sort of bothering Dean. He didn’t like being stopped within his ministrations; it brung up that streak of insecurities that he was far too aware of. Dean ignored them though, nearly swallowing his brother’s length once more, hands returning to their respective spots as he took up speed again, mouth watering as he tasted a sliver of pre-come dribbling from Sam’s cock.

He wanted to touch himself, more than anything, it was almost painful now, but he resisted. He’d done it enough with others, and he was trying to respect his brother’s ‘concerns’, so he kept his hands busy on the muscles of the larger man’s stomach, and the warm globes of his balls being caressed gently in Dean’s other palm.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to further will himself to stay hard, which shouldn't be nearly as difficult as it was. But just the thought that Dean was doing this for Sam, with only Sam's desires in mind, he could feel himself deflating. His brother's perception of sexual pleasure had been so twisted, that it was like he couldn't understand someone caring on a deeper level.

Dean felt the cock lessen up almost the moment it started, and his brows narrowed. He looked up to his brother in confusion, pulling off the head and running his thumb over Sam’s stomach.

“What gives?” He asked, more breathless than before.

"It's just... I kind of feel like you're treating me like everyone else, Dee," Sam leaned up again, looking at Dean seriously, "And what we have, it's more personal than that. I love you for fuck's sake and when you don't really want me to reciprocate, it's just a little off putting is all."

“But you **don’t** want to,” Dean frowned in confusion, “You didn’t want to, you said you didn’t. I mean, I guess I get it. It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged again, “It makes sense. I understand why you wouldn’t want to, so you don’t have to. M’fine without it.”

"Yeah, well... I've been thinking about it and you were right," Sam looked at Dean nervously and tried shrugging nonchalantly, "We could always just use protection, be careful. We don't have to wait."

The younger Winchester sighed and climbed out from between Sam’s legs, “Is there... Somethin’ wrong?” He didn’t understand his brother’s problems sometimes, it was a goddamn blow job, and he was acting like it wasn’t good enough or something.

Sam notched his brows together and shook his head, "I wasn't aware that my wanting to have sex with you meant that something is wrong. I want it to feel good for the both of us and it kind of felt like you were just blowing me because you **had** to or something."

Dean walked to Sam, staring down at his brother and reaching out to touch his neck, “F’I **had** to suck you off, I still would **wanna** do it,” He leaned down, ghosting his lips over Sam’s as he climbed into the larger man’s lap, “I’d let you fuck my mouth, no hands to hold you back, f’you wan’ed to. I’d let you do _anythin’_ , Sam.”

Sam swallowed and stared into his brother's eyes, his breathing shaky and uneven, "It's not really your mouth I want to fuck, Dee. At least not at the moment." The older Winchester pressed a hesitant kiss to Dean's lips, he could feel himself getting hard again already.

“Do what you _want_ , Sam,” Dean whispered, voice deep against his brother’s mouth, “I want you to. M’all yours. F’you wanna _fuck_ me, you **can** fuck me. You can do anythin’ you want.” His hands moved to the back of Sam’s head, fingers combing through the long strands of hair.

Sam squeezed at Dean's hips, "And what if I mess up somehow?"

He was almost embarrassed at how hard he'd gotten again and in such a short period of time. With Dean practically right on it, there was no way he didn't feel it. The older Winchester had watched a few porno's, but he knew it wouldn't be quite so easy to apply anything like that to real life.

Dean raised a brow as his hips shifted, rolling against his brother’s boner, “How would you mess up?” He asked, licking along the corner of Sam’s mouth.

Sam practically whimpered as he closed his eyes, squeezing tighter on his brother's hips, "You're talking to a virgin here. I'm sure if it's possible, I'll fuck up somehow."

“You mean like come early or somethin’?” Dean asked, rolling his hips again, “You’ll be fine, Sam. You’re with me, an’ first times are never really graceful. S’boun’ to be awkward an’ embarrassin'. But you got me here, an’ it won’t change how I feel, or fuck thin’s up. I’ll still love you, ‘ven more, really. Only thin’ you got to lose s’your virginity.”

Sam kissed the corner of Dean's mouth as he shifted his hips up and rolled them both, he was so hard that it hurt, "Please tell me you've got a condom or something in your bag."

Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled one of his condoms up, holding it in front of Sam’s face, “What, you mean like _this_?” He tried to keep himself calm under his brother, even as Sam displayed his dominance. He was fine, his brother wouldn’t hurt him, _he’d promised_.

"Like that," Sam grinned and took the condom, sitting it next to them as he kissed his brother a little more slowly. The older Winchester pressed his body to Dean's, his left arm up underneath Dean's right shoulder with his hand in his brother's hair as his right hand splayed low and gentle on his hip, "You may have to talk me through some of this, Dee."

“S’okay,” The younger Winchester muttered, feeling his insides squirm at his brother’s dominance. His legs parted as he tried to calm down, taking the submissive role he assumed best, hiding the insecurity behind a wall. Even if his brother was rough, or hurt him, surely he’d had worse, and he’d given for those men.

“I’ll help you through it,” He assured Sam, hands moving to his pants button.

Sam kissed Dean's cheek before he moved back and undid his buttons for him, kissing his brother's stomach through his shirt as he did so. He leaned back and pulled down his brother's jeans and boxer briefs, then yanked his own shirt the rest of the way off.

Sam took a moment to look Dean over before pressing back up against him, placing gentle kisses to his neck, "Tell me what to do now, baby boy."

Dean sat up slightly, “Well, first,” he breathed, reaching back behind him as he stared at Sam. He didn’t know why, but it made him nervous, letting his brother know about these things. His fingers touched the harder back of the toy and he carefully pulled it out, cheeks heating as he watched Sam’s face.

Sam licked his lips and observed, eyes blown wide with curiosity, "How long've you had that in?"

“About...” Dean ducked out his lips and thought it over, “Five hours? When we dropped by that gas station, an’ I went to the bathroom.” He nodded slowly, “Yeah. Since then.”

Sam felt his dick throb at the admittance as he moved closer, hovering more over Dean, "Fuck, that's... **hot**. You could've told me"

Dean’s eyes widened slightly at the term ‘hot’, he didn’t exactly think of it as something he’d... He’d’ve shared, or told another person, he wasn’t sure why Sam wanted to know about it at _all_.

“I didn’t think to,” He admitted, it was just something he did, really, on a day-to-day basis or so. But his brother seemed to like the knowledge of such a thing.

Sam ran his hand along the outside of his brother's thigh, reveling in how soft his skin was, "It's fine," He murmured, grinning slightly, "Kind of takes all the fun out of prepping though."

The older Winchester may have been a virgin, but he didn't like being **completely** naive about this type of thing. There was such a thing as Google after all.

“Oh,” Dean’s lips started to form other words and his brows notched together as he shifted uncomfortably under his brother, “Well, if you don’t want to, then...” He started to get up, “We don’t have to, we can wait. We can do it tomorrow or somethin’.”

"Dean," Sam pressed his hand to Dean's chest softly to stop him, "It's fine, okay? I still want to, unless... unless **you** don't." He'd been joking about it, smiling even and Dean tensed up anyway. He knew he'd fuck up, it was just a matter of time.

The younger Winchester sat back and nodded, “No, I want to, goddamn do I want to.” He touched Sam’s hand on his chest mindlessly, trying to let it be okay with him.

“I want to. But I dunno how you want this, Sam. F’this isn’t right for you already, I’m bound to be somethin’ wrong somewhere else as well.”

Sam shook his head, confused, "What do you mean, if this isn't right for me? If you're talking a-about the toy, Dean. I was just j-joking, I'm nervous okay? Cut me some slack." The older Winchester bit his tongue and clenched his jaw, the stuttering making his nervousness obvious.

“Cut you some slack?” Dean huffed, “You should cut **me** some slack too. You’re tryin’? So am I. M’not really good at this, you know? I just lay down an’ get fucked, normally. Tryin’ to lead you ‘roun’ an’ explain thin’s, an’ be perfect, an’ not fuck up is hard ‘nuff without you bein’ disappointed‘n me. An’ you’re intimidatin’, an’ huge. M’ tryin’ to keep calm here. But you gotta cut me some slack too.”

Sam looked at Dean like he'd just hit him in the gut and backed off, he slid off the bed and pulled his jeans on, "Sorry for being a virgin, Dean. I've never been disappointed in you, **never**. And as far as me being **intimidating** , maybe this should wait until you figure out that I won't hurt you."

“Wait, wait,” Dean sat up more, reaching out to stop his brother, “Sam, don’t. Stop, please.”

He swallowed as he licked his lips, “ _Please_.”

Sam's eyes watered up as he let his hands fall to his sides, "What, Dee? I can't just change my size, okay? And I can't just snap my damn fingers and be knowledgeable about this type of thing. I love you, man. And it kills me that you're still afraid of me or something. I don't know what you want me to do."

Dean took Sam’s wrist with careful, shaking fingers, “Please, come back here, okay?”

He was so completely terrified now, even more so than before. It was probably ironic, that he was more scared now, that Sam would **do** what he was trying to affirm to Dean what he **wouldn’t** do, but it was just the way he felt. “Come back here, yeah?”

"I finally work up the nerves to do this," Sam frowned and moved closer, looking at Dean's shaking hand on him, "And we find **something** to fight about. I don't wanna argue with you, I hate it."

The younger Winchester reached out nervously with his second hand, taking Sam’s other wrist in it, “You gotta understan’. M’not sayin’ there’s anythin’ wrong with your size, but you hafta level with me, an’ do this.” He was scared, his guts were bound to spill out the more he pushed on them, but he pulled, making an obvious motion for Sam to climb over him and he started to lay back, “Come on, okay?” He repeated, unsure.

"You're terrified of me, yet you still want me to do this," Sam shook his head as he hesitantly positioned over Dean, "I don't get it, you need me to prove it to you? That I won't hurt you?" It hurt Sam to know that Dean couldn't remember him before all of this, remember how he used to be. Granted, they never had sex back then, but Sam was as loving and nurturing towards Dean as he could've been.

“Please,” Dean said, staring up at Sam as he laid back. He didn’t think he could handle Sam pulling away again, he’d already lost so much from the first few times, one more and Dean might not be able to look at the older Winchester without wanting to crawl into a goddamn hole. He was shameless though, and he laid himself out for Sam, completely terrified as he dropped his hands on the bed.

“Okay?” His eyes were watering, he wanted to cover himself, he wanted to hide or something, protect his body, but he resisted.

Sam nodded sadly and moved back to slide his pants off, he had to jerk himself for a minute just to get himself hard enough to put the condom on. If this was what Dean needed, then it was his duty as the older brother to give in, to sate him. The older Winchester placed a single chaste kiss to Dean's lips as he settled close against him, his right hand feeling the skin on his thigh tenderly, "Alright."

Dean shook his head, reaching out and touching his brother’s chest, “Wait, okay?” His hands were shaking so bad that he was sure it was causing the entire bed to tremor, but his right hand moved to Sam’s jaw line and Dean stared into his eyes, “‘Fore we do this, you just... You hafta know somethin’. I just, I mean–you hafta know. You **should** know, you probably already do. But you’re everythin’ to me, Sam. No matter what you do to me, no matter how it goes, you just hafta know that.”

Sam reached down and brought Dean's hand to his mouth and kissed each finger tip, his voice timid and broken, "You're everything to me too and... I swear I won't hurt you, not on purpose, baby boy." He let Dean's hand fall and replaced his palm back on his brother's thigh, hiking it up on his hip as he positioned himself to align better with Dean.

The younger Winchester’s body responded to the nickname, arching slightly as he watched Sam kiss his fingers. He looked down between them, watching his smaller body for a moment, the paler skin, though not completely pale, but in comparison to Sam’s, it was. He was squishy beside Sam’s chiseled muscles. It was almost embarrassing to see them mix together, because Sam was everything, and Dean still couldn’t understand why he’d come back to such a broken person. Dean didn’t have anything to give in return for this.

Sam leaned down further, pressing his chest flush against Dean's as he kissed his way from his brother's chin to his ear, "Ready?" He had to take deep breaths to calm himself down. It was his first time, but one of them needed to be calm and collected. Besides, this was a chance of sorts to prove himself to Dean and he wouldn't blow it.

“Mm, yeah,” Dean licked his lips, his hands moving to touch Sam’s chest, one over his heart and the other up near the opposite side’s collarbone. He wasn’t completely use to being asked, but it’d happened enough. Still, it was nice to hear, it was nice to know that Sam was going to great lengths to try and get them both through this. He didn’t need to, but Dean didn’t really know what _else_ he could do. He just wanted to be able to have Sam like this, and not have to worry about the larger man’s size.

Sam nodded and reached down between them, his hand shaky but firm on the base of his cock as he aligned himself up with Dean's heat. He let out one last heavy breath, kissing the skin next to Dean's ear as he pushed in slowly, "Tell me if I hurt you. I mean it, alright?"

Dean was about to say ‘it’s fine’, but he stopped himself. It wasn’t that it was reflex, it _definitely wasn’t_. But taking pain **was**. He, instead, made Sam look at him for a moment, “You won’t, okay? You won’t hurt me.” He tried to sound positive, to sound like he meant it. Dean moved his legs then, higher up for Sam, and combed his fingers through his brother’s hair.

Sam stared into Dean's eyes, gasping slightly as he pushed the rest of the way in. Despite the toy stretching his brother out for the past five hours, Dean was still **really** tight, and hot as hell.

The older Winchester stilled himself once he was fully in and kissed Dean, slow and intimate. Sam could feel his heart thudding rapidly against his chest, his brother's fingers in his hair was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment, "Let me know when it's okay to move." He was going to make damn sure that he didn't hurt Dean, he wouldn't be able to look at himself again if he did.

“Huh?” Dean’s brows notched together in confusion. His brother felt amazing inside of him, filling and stretching, but not burning much like he was use to. The comment, though, sort of threw him off.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down between them again, “It’s... How do I know?” It was weird, Dean asking that question, considering he should know a lot, **lot more** about this. But Sam was telling him to do something he didn’t understand.

"I don't know," Sam admitted, a blush rising to his cheeks, "I just don't want to hurt you, don't wanna move until you want me to."

It was a task in itself to keep his hips still, the grip Dean had on him damn near had his mind reeling. It felt unlike anything he'd ever felt, besides Dean's mouth, but the point stood.

Sam cupped his brother's cheek and swiped his thumb underneath his left eye as he kissed him again.

Dean kissed back, breathing in through his nose as he kept himself calm. He broke it, though, to speak, “M’fine, Sam. It doesn’t hurt, you can move.” He’d definitely had worse, a lot worse, far careless than this.

The older Winchester nodded and, when he drew back to thrust in again, he practically sobbed from the sensation, "Jesus Christ." He moved his hips, slow and unsure, but a steady rhythm nonetheless. It felt amazing and Sam wanted to kick his own ass for waiting so long, he shouldn't have waited three years to go back and apologize.

It was familiar to Dean, and also not, having Sam inside of him. His brother was far different than anyone he’d ever been with. Dean felt himself growing harder and harder with each thrust, his brother’s calm thrusts in comparison to the usual. It was interesting, to think of these firm, controlled thrusts as ‘experienced’, but that’s what it felt like.

Sam was careful, Dean could tell, but it wasn’t the hurried, violent jerks of a man that just wanted to get himself off in an ass half his age. It was smooth, it was measured and concerned. Dean felt his eyes start to prick with unshed tears because he’d been missing something like this, something like making ‘love’ and not just empty, jagged fucks in back alleyways.

Sam made sure he put most of his weight on his left arm as his elbow bit down into the bed, he reached down between them with his right hand and wrapped it around Dean's length.

He continued moving, his hips stuttering in and out a little more sure now, but still slow. He wanted this to be good for the younger man too, needed it to be. Sam noticed that Dean's eyes were watering and he felt slightly panicked, "Are you okay, am I hurting you?"

“No, you’re not hurtin’ me at all,” Dean responded, his arms moving to wrap around Sam’s neck, “Not at all, Sam.”

He knew it wasn’t the most attractive thing in the world, crying during sex, but he couldn’t help it. It was almost overwhelming, how sensitive Sam was being. There wasn’t any pain, any pulling or tearing, no violence; save for maybe in his gut. Dean turned his face into the mattress to hide himself as tears started spilling from his eyes.

Sam stilled his hips to touch his brother's face tenderly with his left hand, trying to will the younger man to look at him, "Then why're you crying, baby boy?" It was amazing, how beautiful Dean was - tears and all.

Dean felt the tears really come in then, at the concern in his brother’s voice, the hands touching him. The younger Winchester moved his own to take Sam’s hips, “Don’t stop, Sam, please.” He couldn’t breathe, the tears were choking him up, spilling down the sides of his face, into his ears and hairline, and he was sure his cheeks were red. It was embarrassing, but he couldn’t help it.

Sam began rolling his hips again at his brother's request, still concerned about him though. He couldn't stop himself from trying to wipe some of the tears away, "I love you, Dee."

It was unexplainable, but Sam almost felt lucky, to be able to see Dean like this; so raw and fucking emotional laid out under him. The older Winchester made sure he didn't neglect Dean's pleasure either, his right hand still working in turn with his thrusts, his thumb brushing gently over the head of Dean's cock.

“I love you,” Dean said back, but it was more of a shaky whimper that was wavered by a tremble in his lips and he turned his face again, trying to hide it a second time. He was glad, glad that Sam wasn’t slowing, that he seemed to understand slightly. He may not have known **exactly** what was going on inside of Dean, but he seemed to know enough, that it wasn’t a bad thing, that they weren’t sad, scared tears. Well, they **were** sad tears, but sad because of loss before, waste; it was harmless though, other than that.

Sam pulled his hand from Dean's cock and slid it underneath his brother's body to hold him tight as he used his left arm to push their weights up off the bed, he sat back on his calves, grunting into the younger man's ear as he continued to thrust in - bouncing Dean slightly in his lap, "Hug me, Dean."

Dean gasped, eyes popping open and widening as Sam changed them up. He wrapped his arms around his brother, squeezing close as his body shook in Sam’s arms. Goddamn, he was so strong, and that thought didn’t really bother Dean right now, considering how completely amazing it felt, to be like this.

“Sam,” Dean gasped as he held onto his brother, he was still crying, still hard as a rock, still entirely overwhelmed. It was like he was falling apart.

Sam had one arm wrapped snugly around Dean with his other hand in the back of his brother's hair, using the muscles in his legs to roll his hips up into him. It was insane how deep he was getting and how amazing it felt to have Dean cling to him like this. Sam could feel a warmth settle low in his hips the more he bounced Dean on his lap, he was panting and moaning with a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his back, "Baby boy."

“Sam, please,” The whine broke from Dean’s lips, he couldn’t handle that name some times, that 'term of endearment' that Sam had adopted for him, it was too much upon everything else.

More tears spilled down his cheeks, and he was practically a sobbing mess now, between the sex and the emotions, the words, and Sam himself, Dean was just crumbling to pieces as he held on. And now, now he couldn’t even hide his face in the blankets to try and get away from the strong muscles, the force wrapped around him, his brother pumping into him, thrusting in with so much intense strength that Dean was sure any of the men that had touched him before could feel it.

If Dean had been afraid of **them** hitting him, Sam was more than they were, but the younger Winchester wasn’t really intimidated now. Sam, though he was thrusting up into Dean so severely at this point, was still so gentle, so amazing, and it made Dean cry even more.

Sam slowed the movements down to short shallow thrusts as he wrapped both of his arms around his brother, actually hugging him with his face nuzzled against Dean's neck, "I'm sorry." The last thing he wanted was to make Dean cry even more and even though he felt a little guilty, he knew that his brother's tears weren't sad tears or even tears of pain, so he continued.

Dean wasn’t sure if there was a thing Sam could do to actually stop him from crying, everything the older Winchester seemed to be trying to do just made it worse.

“Don’t be,” He breathed, shaken and clutching tight to his brother, kissing Sam’s head as he tried to wipe at his face. He hadn’t cried so hard in so long, it was embarrassing, but he wouldn’t regret doing it.

The position they were in, it was almost difficult for Sam to actually jack Dean off, so instead he clutched him even closer and just hoped the friction between them would do the trick. Because being close to him like this, to be able to hug him while he made love to him. Sam just didn't want to let go and put him down, it was too intimate.

Instead, he held on to him like he was the most important thing in the universe and continued to pump up into him, heavy breaths and moans constantly spilling out against his brother's skin.

Dean gasped as Sam thrust into him relentlessly. He was so close already, so desperately close. He would’ve been surprised that he’d managed to keep it up, if it hadn’t been for how completely amazing it felt.

The gentle strokes inside of him were stunning each time, causing his legs to tremble, his back to arch, his fingers to try and continue to keep their purchase over Sam’s shoulder blades as he breathed in sharp pulls that didn’t really come in his control.

Sam let one hand slide down to Dean's hip as he pulled on him, bringing his brother down as he thrust up. His orgasm was coiling tight inside him, so close to releasing and really, he was surprised he'd lasted as long as he did. The amount of work he had to put in, in this position, was well worth it - to hold Dean like this.

He moaned loudly against the younger Winchester's neck, teeth slightly grazing the skin before he pressed a heated kiss to his pulse point, "So close."

“M’too,” Dean managed out. His legs shifted, folding underneath himself as he picked back up in Sam’s lap once more. He touched his brother’s face, lifting Sam’s chin as Dean rolled his hips, tightening his muscles slightly. It was easier, now that he had some sort of control over himself, but the tears were still on his cheeks.

“Want you to,” He stared into Sam’s eyes as he breathed out, slow and steady, even as he shook and another tear dropped down, "Come with me, Sam."

Sam nodded numbly, so overwhelmed with the sensation, he was having trouble thinking of anything other than Dean. The older Winchester thrust up into the smaller man a little faster, staring into Dean's eyes with his lips parted as he cried out, his orgasm making him tense all over as he pressed his face to Dean's shoulder, "I love you so fucking much, Dee."

Dean felt his own orgasm take over in turn, the large hands clutching him, his brother pressed tight, thrusting up into him and Dean shuddered his release against Sam’s stomach, burying his face in the long brown hair as he all but whimpered against the larger man.

Sam stilled his hips after a few more jerky thrusts, panting against Dean's skin as he clutched him close. As far as first times go, he was entirely convinced that his deserved a medal or something. It was nice to finally have Dean so completely, how he could've had him years ago if he wouldn't have left.

“Sam,” Dean said, and he hadn’t even realized that he’d started crying again until he was, holding his brother, cradling his head as the younger Winchester shook with sobs.

"Hey, shhh," Sam kissed Dean's collar bone as he leaned forward to lay them back down, his legs burning like fire.

The older Winchester cupped Dean's face and tried to console him as he pressed kisses to the wet, red blotchy skin on his brother's face, "It's okay, Dean."

Dean was shaking so hard, hands and body latching onto his brother, keeping Sam as close as possible as he tried to breathe, tried to listen to the larger man. It was overwhelming, he couldn’t stop, but he was comforted, knowing that Sam was there for him; even if he was completely freaking out.

"Come on, man," Sam watched Dean cautiously, his brows starting to furrow with concern, "Talk to me, tell me what's wrong." Sam ran his hand down Dean's left bicep to try and calm him down, constantly placing kisses all over his face and chest.

“Nothin’s wrong,” Dean said finally, trying to breathe as he wiped at his eyes , legs tightening more around Sam, “ **Nothin’s wrong**. That’s it.” He didn’t know how else to say it, he didn’t want to make his brother more uncomfortable, by telling Sam what he thought, he didn’t want to have to take it there, to explain how his entire world had shifted, how everything came together, how Sam had been perfect, so gentle and concerned, so loving, and how Dean realized that’s the way it should be. So he settled for: “Nothin’ is wrong, at all.”

"I'm not buying it, but I'm not gonna push it," Sam whispered against Dean's lips before kissing him, molding his lips to Dean's. If and when Dean was ready to talk about it, surely he'd speak up and say something.

Dean responded at once, taking Sam’s face in his hands and kissing back furiously, he was grateful for his brother’s settlement. Even more grateful though, for his unconditional love.

Sam breathed deep through his nose and drew back from the kiss before deepening it as he grinned a little at Dean, "Just a sec." He pulled out of Dean slowly and rolled off the bed, took the condom off, tied it and threw it in the trashcan next to his bed.

The older Winchester stretched briefly, his legs still burning as he reached down for his shirt and wiped the come off of his abdomen, then climbed back up on the bed and wiped his brother down as well.

After throwing the shirt in the floor, he pulled the covers down on the bed and pressed up next to Dean as he drew the covers over their hips. Sam wrapped his arm over Dean's waist and held him close as his lips took Dean's up once again.

The younger Winchester grinned as he leaned into the kiss once more, his hands moving to wrap around his brother as he moaned in approval. Goddamn, it’d been so long since he’d had anything even remotely like this, and it was new and old and expected and surprising at the same time. He'd do anything he could to just lay there with Sam, for the rest of his life.

"So, you know. Everything else aside, I hope that was okay for you," Sam said, smiling timidly as he kissed Dean more heatedly. It was a question, but not a question at the same time. If Dean got off, Sam would count it as a success. The older Winchester moved his hand to his brother's hip as he tangled their legs together.

“Okay,” Dean chuckled softly, turning his nose to brush it along Sam’s jaw line, “ I think I cried through the entire thin’, or most, at least. It wasn’t because I was upset, Sam.”

He took a breath and his eyes met his brothers.

“I never knew it could be like that. I’ve just... I’ve never taken time to learn about it really, or know much. In a lot of ways, it’s still kinda new to me. It’s always been real rough, an’ hard, an’ painful. I just figured that was how it was, I guess. But, with you, in your arms, I felt safe. I’ve never felt so safe, not in my whole life. Still do. An’ it was so careful, so gentle. I don’t know... It just overwhelmed me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _****Originally this RP ended here. But upon rereading the end, Barb (Acklesboner) has decided that it was a stupid, abrupt end, and we'll be picking up this RP again some time in the future. ^^ I'm not sure where all it's gonna go, but it should be promising._


End file.
